


bad luck

by awesomedickbro



Category: Reservoir Dogs (1992)
Genre: Alcohol Mentions, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Slow Burn, hope this doesn’t make anything awkward, oh no theyve met before, sex references, theyre really bad at keeping their anonymity, violence and injury mentions, vomit mentions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:14:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 33,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27180238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awesomedickbro/pseuds/awesomedickbro
Summary: freddy meets an old friend and is very, very unprofessional
Relationships: Mr. Orange/Mr. White (Reservoir Dogs)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 45





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> hey wasn’t gonna post this until i had finished it but i thought id post the first chapter today since its the anniversary of the reservoir dogs theatre release. enjoy :-)

freddy felt himself sweating from his leather jacket and the hot, red lights, but he didn’t want to take it off. the air felt as sticky as the surface of the bar did, where he was nervously tapping his hand. the almost laughably fake wedding band knocked the wood. he had scoffed when holdaway suggested it, but he wasn’t about to argue with his logic. married guys are more trustworthy. seem more mature and less impulsive, and it proves you can be loyal. though of course, now that freddy thought about it, he had come across, pardon the pun, a lot of disloyal married guys. 

he had ordered a drink, more for just something to do rather than to drink it, and he impatiently swilled the glass, making the ice clink. the bartender probably would have given him a look for his annoying little noises, if it weren’t for the loud music. he lifted his hand to pull on his cigarette, but jumped when he felt a sudden clap on the back and he turned around.

“hey buddy, daddy‘s here now, follow me” the leering, curly haired guy said. eddie had picked him up from near the cover apartment then left him at the bar for a few minutes. so far, freddy had found the ‘nice guy’ nickname to be misleading.

“alright man” and freddy turned on his cool, nonchalant swagger and got up, aware of his every move and every muscle in his face. 

*you’re super cool. it’s fine.*

he followed eddie as he weaved through the crowd, holding his drink to his chest in a way he hoped made him look like a cool, whiskey conscious guy that values an unspilt drink. maybe he was overthinking this.

eddie lead him to a table so poorly lit, he could barely make out anything other than the shape of the guy. the shape, the big, looming shape, leaned forward into the light.

*motherfucker looks just like the thing*

freddy tried hard not to gulp and looked back with his casual, heavy lidded expression. not too eager or excited, but respectful and interested. hopefully.

“well, here he is! long beach mike’s friend! you find the place okay?” he grumbled, obviously not caring, but it was a good sign he was at least bothering with niceties.

“yeah, eddie actually-“

“oh, here he comes” joe cabot, the thing, interrupted him with. “this here is our good friend. you‘ll know him as mr. white” he said gruffly, nodding behind freddy. freddy felt a guy move to stand next to him and he turned to look.

*oh shit*

the walking pair of dimples that stood next to him was far too familiar. he knew this fucking guy. he knew this guy way too well. he gulped.

a look of recognition flashed across the guys face, but he pulled it back remarkably quickly. 

“this is the kid i told ya about. gettin’ to know him tonight” joe said, but it sounded from a million miles away. 

“right” the guy, ‘mr. white’, said, not taking his eyes off freddy’s. this three seconds felt like a cowboy stand off, each waiting for the other to do something. white licked his lips and turned away, plastering a casual look on his face that freddy envied. he kept his eyes on the place white’s lips had been before he turned for an extra half second.

*what are the fuckin’ chances?*

“nice to meet you kid” mr. white said, offering his hand. freddy could have laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation, but he took his hand and shook it, a hopefully polite, not-totally-gormless look on his face. his skin was as rough and warm as it had been before, and freddy pulled away and plucked at the back of his jacket to disguise the shiver he felt. 

mr. white pushed past and sat on a stool next to joe, taking out a cigarette and flicking open his lighter, not meeting freddy’s eye.

“so kid, how long you known long beach mike for?”

*snap out of it. quick.*

“i, uh, couple of months now. met him on the job we did together” freddy said, slipping into his criminal skin and dragging his eyes off mr. white.

“oh yeah? we heard all about that from him. you done any since?” eddie said from his stool.

“nothing big like that, no”. that was his trick. tell them that he had done other jobs, but without bragging. give too much away and he’ll seem cocky and immature. let them ask.

“nothin’ big, but somethin’ small?” joe said.

“gas stations. mainly shitholes outside the city”

joe nodded “so is that what you do now, if you don’t mind me askin’?”. the manners were only there as an illusion, there was no way anyone had the option of not telling him.

“i’ve been pushin’ weed mainly” freddy drawled. it was coming up, his big story. 

he stole a glance at mr. white, only to find him with his eyes already fixed on him. all of the police training in the world couldn’t explain the look on the guys face. white leaned forward a little, dragging from his cigarette and gripping his glass. 

“shit, every guy i fuckin’ know started out like that. you got it on your sheet?” eddie asked. 

*fuck. okay.*

“nah, no sheet. i’ve been good” and shit you not, white chuckled. freddy glanced at him real quick then back to eddie, not letting himself stop for too long. “i got this fuckin’ close when i was first startin’ though. scared me shitless”

“oh yeah? rat getcha?” joe said.

“nah, nothin’ like that... i was helpin’ someone with their own deal”

*here we go. you’ve got all the details. you’re marlon fuckin’ brando*

he left it a beat, but when no one asked and just looked at him expectantly, he started. the commode story.

he tried to keep his gaze rotating between the three of them, making sure he didn’t give mr. white any extra attention. the look on his face was distracting as fuck.

they asked questions, like he knew they would, and even though he responded quick and easy, he still felt like he was outnumbered in dodgeball.

“that’s hard man, that’s a fuckin’ hard situation” white grinned.

*yeah, fuckin’ tell me about it, buddy. just shrug it off*

he finished his perfect little story, and was faced by three impressed faces looking back at him. they had eaten it up. thank fuck.

“well, you knew how to handle that situation. just shit your pants and dive in and swim”

freddy laughed and dragged, still trying to remain casual, and for god’s sake, don’t look to pleased with yourself.

joe cleared his throat. “give us a minute, will ya kid? eddie will come get ya from the bar”

“yeah sure, i need to take a leak anyway” freddy shrugged. he downed the rest of his drink and turned away, not before he could make eye contact with mr. white again. he could feel the guys eyes on him as he walked away to the men’s room. 

*this was so fucked.*

he barged into the bathroom and found it deserted. with no one looking, he let his body relax and he head hang low, taking a few deep breaths. 

*what were the fuckin’ chances*

_ they had met at a bar, you see, about a month ago. none of your business what type of establishment it was. freddy had been sitting dolefully at the bar, staring into his empty bottle and fiddling with the label. he had anxiety swimming in the pit of his stomach, gluing him to his seat. he wished he was sitting at home with his hand down his boxers on his couch, surrounded by crumbs and diet coke cans. _

_ a whiskey was knocked down in front of him by the bartender.  _

_ “from the guy at the end” he had grumbled to him. freddy looked to see where he was nodding and saw a tanned, older guy a couple of stools down, face hidden behind the whiskey he was also drinking from. he had looked at him cooly and without expectations, but freddy grinned wide and lifted his glass to him, making him smile in return.  _

_ *thank fuck for this* he had thought. his chest felt tight looking over the guys arms and chest under his printed shirt.  _

_ as freddy drank, the guy came over, leaning on the bar next to him. freddy had looked at him through his eyelashes as he sipped. _

_ “this is good. smooth” freddy had said, gesturing with his glass.  _

_ “you talkin’ ‘bout me or the whiskey?” and they both grinned. _

_ “haven’t given me a chance to make up my mind about you” freddy quipped after a pause. _

_ the guy raised his eyebrows and pulled a ‘fair enough’ kind of face as he scanned the room. “you wanna make up your mind about me?” _

_ freddy had nodded, looking up through his eyelashes and pressing the glass into his chin. he had very much wanted to. _

_ mystery guy smiled, not coy or suggestive, just a real, happy smile, his eyes crinkling. freddy could barely hold back a smile of his own at the sight. _

_ “why don’t you finish your whiskey and follow me then?” he had said, leaning closer a whispering with his low voice. freddy hadn’t needed any further convincing, just knocked the drink back, winced slightly and stood up. a hand between his shoulder blades had lead him to the bathroom, but it was, well, occupied, so he was turned around and walked out of the bar altogether. it was raining, hard, like the sky had cracked open. _

_ “i dunno what you’re comfortable with, we can go back to my place, or a hotel or go to yours if you want” he said low next to his ear once they were out and standing in the partial shelter of the doorway. freddy considered it for a second. there was somewhere near by he had been too before. _

_ “there’s a hotel a few minutes from here. i’ll show you the way” he had said, and the hand slid from his shoulders to his lower back to hurry him to the car. it was too dark to tell what type it was, other than it was white and *nice*.  _

_ the guy drove fast, way faster than necessary, but freddy couldn’t complain when they pulled into the parking lot before the song on the radio finished.  _

_ the guy booked the room, and freddy probably should have been listening out for his name when he told the receptionist because it felt too late to ask now. he couldn’t hear over the lobby music and the sound of his own foot tapping and the fucking rain battering again the windows. then they were going up the stairs two at the time, then freddy was wrestling off his shoes as the guy unbuttoned his stupid printed shirt. then he was flat on his back, his hair wet from the rain and soaking the rough sheets as he knotted his hands into the other guy’s hair, soaking wet and slippery as well._

what followed was, well, it was making freddy blush as he remembered it as he washed his hands in the bathroom back at smokey pete’s. best not to dwell on that kind of thing when he was in the middle of an undercover job.

he looked at himself in the mirror and grimaced. he didn’t look cool now. he looked like a nervous little kid again, like a puppy separated from the litter. he rubbed his hands over his face, took a couple of deep breaths. he pulled his jacket close around him, acutely aware of the fact that his nipples were gonna get hard the second he saw the guy again.

he wondered what would happen if he just ran. just went out the bathroom window or sprinted through the bar and out the front door. 

explaining to holdaway that he couldn’t do an undercover job because him and a guy on the team had previously fucked in a sad hotel wasn’t ideal though. he just had to go out there and hope to god that mr. white wasn’t a snitch.

freddy rolled his neck, shifted back into his cool-guy posture and swaggered out the door. he was fine. he was baretta. and he was gonna get another fucking drink.

almost immediately after his whiskey was handed to him, eddie came over, slapping him on the back again.

“hey, tough guy, come back over, we wanna talk to ya”

freddy followed him through the crowd for a second time, but this time when he reached the table, a chair had been pulled up for him. joe gestured to it and freddy sat, mr. white’s elbow grazing his as he did.

“well junior, we were all pretty impressed by you. and your little story. you seem like a good kid, so we’re takin’ you on”

freddy turned his face into something he hoped was a glad, not too eager smile. it didn’t help that mr. white was staring right at him. “great. glad to be workin’ with ya” 

“we’re not givin’ out names for this shit, ‘cept for me and eddie. to the other guys, you’re now known as ‘mr. orange’” joe said. 

before freddy had a chance to say anything to that, eddie interrupted with “i’ll call you, let you know when we’re meeting. stay by your fuckin’ phone”

freddy nodded, silently cursing him out, as he had just spent three days doing that.

“we better get goin’ now, eddie. shit to do tomorrow. stay by your fuckin’ phone!” joe growled, pointing at freddy, or mr. orange, as he got up. he gave a questioning look to mr. white, who just shook his head. joe and eddie walked away without a goodbye, leaving freddy a little stunned.

he snapped out of it when he heard white chuckling next to him. “don’t look so scared, kid. joe looks scarier than he is. you’re cool”

freddy turned to look at him, pulling an exhausted expression. white smiled back and dragged from his cigarette, filling the small space between them with smoke.

“what are the fuckin’ chances of this, huh?” white chuckled again, lifting his glass to his lips.

“not the type of thing i’d bet on” freddy mumbled, reaching for his own untouched glass and drinking a lot more than a sip.

white smiled. “you’re safe kid. i’m not tellin’ anyone, you’re not tellin’ anyone. it’s okay”

freddy nodded, almost trying to convince himself, and looked back at white. he couldn’t stand how calm and kind this guy was being. “okay” he said, clearer now, the initial shock wearing away and now being replaced by incredulous amusement.

white clapped him on the back, gentler than eddie had, and cleared his throat. “what whiskey you get?” nodding at freddy’s glass.

“you tell me, man” and freddy lifted the glass to white’s face to let him smell it. a grin spread across white’s face like someone was slowly pouring it on.

“good choice”

“can’t take credit for that. some guy told me about it a while ago and it’s the only one i’ve had that doesn’t burn, so”

“sounds like a guy with good taste”

“in whiskey, sure. his taste in men is a little-“ and freddy wobbled his hand with uncertainty.

white barked out a laugh. “i could say the same thing about you, kid”

they looked at each other amused for a second before white braced himself and said “well”

“yeah, i better go too” freddy mumbled, half disappointed, half relieved. then, wait, oh shit- “hey, man, i’m really sorry, can i get a ride? eddie dropped me off and a cab ride home would fuckin’ bankrupt me”

“yeah, sure. eddie’s an asshole, how the fuck did he forget about that” white said, standing up and putting out his cigarette.

“thanks man” freddy grumbled as he stood up and made to walk out.

“hey, kid, finish your drink. that’s good shit, don’t waste it” white said, not moving from where he was standing and pointing back at the table.

freddy grinned, considered him for a second, then knocked back the rest of the whiskey. he lied, it did burn a little, but it was still better than the other shit he had tried. white smiled back, impressed, and lead him out of the bar with his hand between his shoulders again.

“i didn’t tell you last time, but you got a nice fuckin’ car, man” freddy said as he clambered into the passenger seat.

“thanks” white snorted as he turned the key. “where do you live?”

“you don’t gotta take me all the way, just take me to downtown and i’ll walk”

“nah, come on. i’m not makin’ you walk. if you don’t want me to know your address, fine, just give me an area”

freddy chewed the inside of his lip. he had been at the cover apartment for about a week straight now and that’s where he had to go back to tonight. no harm in telling him the area. “okay. fine. it’s in highland park”

“okay then” white smiled and pulled out of the parking lot. “you just scored a good gig and impressed a very important man, i’m not lettin’ you walk home”

freddy smiled. “you known him long?” he asked. he knew he shouldn’t, but white liked him so he could afford to try.

“the very important man i was talkin’ about was me, so yeah i’ve known him long” white said, smiling at his own joke but not taking his eyes off the road.

“i see” freddy laughed. he didn’t want to ask again and piss him off, but white stepped in.

“if you meant joe, then yeah, i’ve known him a long time. not sure what i’m allowed to tell you about it though”

“i get that” freddy muttered, glad he didn’t get scolded for being nosey.

they were quiet for a bit, then white turned on the radio, landing on a local late night station. 

“you like baseball at all?”

“not at all”

“shame on you, kid” white muttered, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “made a killin’ off the brewers the other night”

“yeah? they win big”

“real big” larry smiled, looking at freddy for a fraction of a second before glancing back at the road.

freddy wasn’t sure what to say, just let his gaze linger on white for a second longer before looking out the window. 

a journey this far at this time usually felt like forever, but white drove as fast as he did before and freddy wasn’t sure if he was glad or not when he recognised how close they were.

white pulled up at a curbside and looked around. “here okay?” 

“yeah, this is fine. thank you man, i thought i was getting a ride home from eddie so i didn’t think to bring enough money for a cab”

“hey, it’s no problem. it wasn’t far” white said, even though it was.

freddy smiled gratefully, turned to the door before he looked back at him. “thank you. for not tellin’ ‘em. or... sabotaging me or somethin’”

“hey, you’re a nice guy, there’s no bad blood. i got nothin’ to hold against ya. ‘cides, joe... knows about me” white said carefully.

freddy was surprised at that, and evidently didn’t hide it well.

“he’s a good guy, don’t worry about him. it was nice to meet you properly, mr. orange” 

they both grinned. even though freddy didn’t believe him about joe, he did believe that white was glad to meet him.

“nice to meet you too, mr. white. thanks again” and he smiled before he got out and started walking down the street, hearing white drive away after a few moments.

*holy shit*

obviously this was terrible. obviously this was dangerous and fucked up and he should tell holdaway that a guy he knew from high school was on the job and they should pull him out. 

he had waited far too long for this though. forever behind a desk or doing that dumb community project no one came to, he had finally been asked to do something useful and he wasn’t going to throw it away because of some guy with a nice dick.

not that that was relevant. he was a professional. he had a job to do.

that professionalism didn’t stop him jerking off as he showered his nervous sweat off his back, pressing his forehead into the tiles. his knees buckled when he came and it took him a good few minutes to snap out of his haze and get out the shower.


	2. two

he explained the evening as best he could to holdaway, obvious details left out of his retelling. the idea of looking at mugshots and finding the guy’s sheet made freddy’s stomach churn but he nodded and was thankful when the subject changed.

he did exactly what joe and eddie said, and ‘stayed by the phone’ for almost a full week. he had been close to losing it when eddie finally called, catching him as he was just about to open a beer at 11am. he was to meet eddie at a street corner a few blocks over, the same one as before, and he was gonna drive him to the rendezvous.

*it’s starting to get fucking real now*

just his luck when his old friend mr. white was also in the car, riding shotgun with his arm around the back of eddie’s seat. jealous wasn’t the right word, but it was close enough.

“hey” freddy breathed as he dropped into the backseat, eyes flicking to white then down into the footwell.

“hey yourself orange” eddie said, not turning around but starting the car. white said nothing, just smiled at him over his shoulder and back at the road. 

freddy could see his hand real close on eddie’s headrest. he felt like he was being temped to reach out and trail a finger over the veins. he fiddled with a hole in his jeans instead. 

he was able to keep up with the conversation eddie and white had without being annoying, just asking questions about the stupid story eddie was telling and laughing where necessary. white laughed a lot, a loud, pitched laugh that freddy couldn’t have stopped smiling at if he tried.

meeting at the rendezvous made telling his fake commode story sound like skipping through a meadow. as well as eddie, joe and white, there were four other guys there. freddy- or orange- slouched and smirked and kept it super cool. didn’t argue about his name even though it made him sound like an off-brand soda, smiled at all the right moments, and above all, listened intently.

white was listening hard too. he was sitting at the front so he couldn’t see his face, but he was still and attentive, tracking joe whenever he spoke. freddy had to pry his eyes away from the back of his head a few times.

the plan was simple. they each had their own roles, which it seemed like they had all be chosen especially for. he repeated every line joe said in his head, copying it to memory. he- orange- is guarding the door. easy. white and some guy called mr. pink are getting the diamonds. he dreaded to imagine what would happen inside the store when it all went down. 

he was confronted with another situation he dreaded to imagine, when joe paired them up for some stakeout duty.

*what are the fuckin’ chances?*

not that he was complaining. he’d much rather be with white than with blonde or brown. but still. just his luck getting trapped in a car with the guy.

when the meeting was _finally_ over, freddy piled into the back of eddie’s car again. 

*didn’t forget about me this time*

when white climbed into the front, he turned around and looked at freddy for a split second without saying anything, then turned back around. freddy snapped his mouth shut, realising it had been hanging open slightly.

eddie eventually pulled up at the street corner where freddy had been picked up from. freddy put a hand on the back of white’s seat to climb out, but he was stopped by white’s hand over his.

“you want me to pick you up from here tomorrow?” white said, turning to look at him.

“uh, yeah. here’s fine” freddy said, feeling frozen under white’s gaze, well, and his hand.

“okay. i’ll be here at 8”

“okay” freddy responded, his mouth feeling a little dry. 

white smiled and patted the back of his hand. “alright. see ya, orange”

“bye. bye, eddie” freddy said, climbing out the car before eddie could respond. he walked away feeling eyes on him as he went. he felt like he had left something very important in the car, but it might have been some parts of his brain that had fallen out when white put his hand over his.

//

freddy looked at his watch. it was 7:56. fuck. he’d been out there a long time now and his legs were starting to ache. it didn’t help that he couldn’t stop nervously tapping his foot. he lifted his cigarette to his lips, only to realise all was left was the lightly bitten filter. he rolled his neck, shifted his weight and tried to not look like an idiot. he sure felt like one. 

a white car slowed and pulled up beside him, the windows down. freddy threw the cigarette butt and stepped forward, squinting against the sun to see if it was who he thought it was.

“if it weren’t 8am, i would have thought you were a fuckin’ rent boy” the guy laughed. yep, it was definitely white.

“that why you pulled over for me then?” freddy quipped, not letting the comment get to him.

“i pulled over because i was gonna take you to breakfast before the store opens. i’ll leave you here until 9 if you’re gonna be an asshole” white laughed.

freddy just smiled and walked around the front of the car to get in. he could feel his ears going red. so what if he did look like a rent boy. it’s fucking hot out. he rolled his shoulders to get his wifebeater unstuck from his sweaty back, and got in the car.

“where we goin’?” he asked, wishing he still had his cigarette filter to chew on.

“café in burbank, near karina’s” and as if he read his mind, “you can smoke in here, i don’t mind”

freddy smiled gratefully and shifted his hips up to pull his pack out his back pocket. he pulled one out and put it in his lips, but before he could pull out his lighter, he saw white’s silver zippo emerge. he got it to light on the first try of a little trick and held it out for freddy. he smiled shyly and leaned into the flame.

the café was busy at this time in the morning, mainly people stopping there for coffee before work. freddy followed white to a table near the window and sat down forcefully, making the chair squeak against the floor.

“is the coffee good here?”

“real good. main reason i come here” white said, sitting down with a lot more grace and opening the menu. “good pancakes too”

“then that’s what i’m gettin’, coffee and pancakes” freddy yawned.

“that it? you’ll want more than that”

“okay then” and freddy took the menu from white. “ _blueberry_ pancakes and coffee”

that gained a snort of laughter from white, which probably shouldn’t have made him as proud as it did. whatever. white took the menu back off him and was busy reading it when a waitress came over.

“hey, you guys ready or should i give you a couple more minutes?” she said in a voice that sounded exhausted despite the place only opening an hour ago.

“i think we’ll-“ white started.

“oh, _larry_ , it’s you! been a while since i’ve seen you here!” the waitress said, perking up a little at the recognition.

*oh no*

freddy couldn’t help it, but he let out a nervous, almost hysterical laugh. white’s, well, larry’s face had gone pale, his mouth hanging open slightly. freddy pulled himself together first.

“uh, we’re not quite ready yet. thanks” he said, feeling a little dumbstruck. the waitress seemed a little confused but shrugged it off.

“sure. i’ll come back in a few minutes” she said before turning away, putting her notepad back in her pocket.

freddy turned back with his lips pressed together, not sure what to say. he settled on: “you got some bad fuckin’ luck man”

white- definitely don’t call him larry, forget the name as quick as possible, he’s just called white- put his head in his hands and laughed. this only set freddy off again, putting his hands over his mouth as he tried to contain his giggles.

“yeah. yeah i fuckin’ do” white chuckled, looking up at freddy. “gigglin’ like a schoolgirl at me blowin’ my cover, fuck you man. that shit isn’t funny”

“i- i can’t help it” freddy said, laughing harder, though he didn’t know why. he had gone from a tricky situation to a dangerous one. he could already feel the dread bobbing like a cork in his stomach.

“fucks sake. fuck! you forget she ever said that. i mean it” white, not larry, said, his face sobering slightly. freddy knew he meant it and nodded, but still couldn’t contain his last nervous giggle.

“shouldn’ta fuckin’ taken you here, i forgot they knew my name” he grumbled, going back to the menu. freddy smiled again, pulling his lips into his mouth shyly. 

*as if we already didn’t know too much about each other*

when they had both collected themselves, they called over the waitress and ordered their food. when they were done and their mouths felt tacky from the coffee, white paid for the two of them, and left a tip for the waitress begrudgingly. freddy added another few dollars as they left.

it turns out that staking out a wholesale diamond store from 9am to noon is as boring as it sounds. freddy was still brimming with nervous energy from earlier that morning, the coffee not doing him any favours.

“you’re drivin’ me crazy here, orange, what’s up?” 

freddy looked from the window, to white- not larry, to where he was gesturing at his sneakers. he had been jumping his leg without realising it, and had accidentally ashed his cigarette onto his jeans.

“fuck” he whispered, sticking it back in his mouth and trying to brush the ash into his hand without getting any on the seat.

“here, let me” and white’s hand reached over, cupping it next to his knee to collect the ash. freddy carefully pushed it off his leg and into white’s palm. white’s other hand firmly swiped at the stain and he threw the ash from his fist out the window, brushing his hands together to get it all off.

“sorry” freddy mumbled, now tapping his cigarette out the window.

“‘s fine. you’ve just had too much coffee, you’re shakin’ like a leaf”

“yeah” freddy fake laughed, chewing the filter slightly. he was struggling to look at white in the eye. he was supposed to be doing a job, and knowing what this guys dick felt like _and_ now knowing his name felt like he was close to some sort of edge.

“hey, about the name. don’t worry about it. forget it, i’m just mr. white to you. if you’re scared of fuckin’ up and sayin’ something in front of the guys, i’ll tell them it’s an alias i used. come to think of it, that’s what i should have fuckin’ told you”

freddy couldn’t help but think that this guy was always telling him not to worry when they both had every reason to. he tore his eyes away from his shoes and dared himself to look him in the eye.

“okay”

freddy got dropped off at the same corner he got picked up from a few hours later. he got out the car and started walking away after a quick ‘bye’ in the car, but he changed his mind. he walked back over, resting his arm on the roof of the car and leaning down to make himself level with white through the open window.

“i had a good time today. sorry it went kinda weird. i’ll try to forget your name... like i been tryin’ to forget that night”

white looked a little hurt but only for a moment. “kid, you definitely gotta forget my name, but nothin’ else. that shit already happened, it’s no ones fault... don’t beat yourself up over that”

freddy chewed the inside of his lip. it wasn’t lost on him that he was being asked to remember that. he thought larry- no, white, would have wanted him to say he was gonna forget it. he slapped the roof, meaning to walk away but he couldn’t quite bring himself to do it. he met white’s eyes again, hoping one of them would say something.

instead, white lifted his hand from the steering wheel and rested his elbow in the open window. he held his hand a few inches away from freddy’s face, like he was deciding what to do with it. 

freddy turned his head a little, fitting his jaw into white’s palm without breaking eye contact. he wasn’t sure why he did it. it felt like a magnetic pull. white pulled a small, pleased-with-himself smile and brushed his thumb under freddy’s eye.

“you don’t want me to forget it?” freddy asked, voice hushed. he could feel his skin burning under his touch. 

*flame on*

“not really. i’d like you to think about it as much as i do, to be honest” white said, moving his thumb from freddy’s cheek to graze over his cupids bow.

*i can do that*

“alright” he muttered, dislodging his thumb and making it land on his bottom lip. white pressed it a little then drew away, hand back on the wheel.

freddy stood upright, slapped the roof of the car again and started walking away. “see ya, mr. white” he called over his shoulder, looking long enough to see him smirk as he started the car.

*holy shit*

freddy crashed into the apartment building, flying up the stairs and slamming doors. he wrestled with his belt as he fell back into his bed, the buckle clattering as he tried to draw back every memory he could of him that night in the hotel. 

he had pressed him flat into the bed, ran his hands under his tshirt and bitten his lip. his hair was greased back but freddy had run his hands through it and fucked it up. his face had been a little cold and tacky after running through the rain, but his skin was warm by the time he was in between freddy’s legs. he had moved his limbs to turn him over onto all fours and kissed his neck when he plastered himself over freddy’s back.

he jerked off desperately like a loser with a scratch card, knowing that the result was going to be disappointing but there was still a chance at a jackpot. 

when he came, he forced his blurred memories of larry’s body to the front of his mind to try and make it feel real, but his hand was unmistakably his and his skin was lonely without the weight of another person. 

he lay there for a few minutes after, wishing he had become a teacher or a store manager or almost any-fucking-thing else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...not every chapter is going to end with freddy jerking off. it was just an unfortunate coincidence that the chapters ended there


	3. three

freddy scuffed his shoes along the sidewalk, his eyes unfocused so the red canvas blurred in front of him with each step. he had just had a pretty frustrating meeting with holdaway and jodie, where he was basically scolded for following joe’s rules. he hadn’t told them he knew white’s name, though he knew he should have. he told them everything he could figure out about the other guys, which was limited, but hey, he was doing the best he could. and no, he couldn’t find white in the wisconsin book. not that he had even looked.

it was almost dusk, the sky a muddy orange colour, and the heat made the sidewalk swim in front of his eyes. he flicked his cigarette butt into the road and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his letterman jacket, ignoring his sweaty body’s pleas to take it off. he saw a corner store across the street and paused.

*fuck it. i have about $30 to my name right now but like fuck am i gonna go to bed sober tonight*

the pale blue neon lights stung his eyes once he was inside and the tinny pop music from the radio at the counter was grating as hell. he headed to the fridges, picking the cheapest six pack there and swivelled around, straight on his way back to the counter. he was predictably ID’d, paid and grumbled a ‘thanks’ as he took his bag, was handed a coupon, and then headed for the door.

before he could open it, it was opened from the outside and someone else walked in.

*oh, come on. this was getting unfair*

white was there, wearing the same hawaiian shirt he had been wearing at the bar.

“hey man” freddy said, picking a place on his forehead to look at, rather than into his eyes.

“hey yourself. we gotta stop bumpin’ into each other like this” he said, his eyes crinkling with a smile. “it’s getting late, isn’t it past your bedtime?”

“fuck you. isn’t it time they start servin’ dinner at the retirement home?”

white laughed at that, shrugging. “touché. guess i deserved that”

freddy averted his eyes completely when he felt white look him over properly. 

“seriously though, you swear you’re not in high school?” and he plucked at a red thread on freddy’s letterman jacket.

“don’t say that, i just got ID’d” freddy said, nodding back at the counter. “i got this from a thrift store when i was 26, i’ll have you know”

“oh, will you?” white chuckled, raising his eyebrows. someone behind freddy tried to leave the store, so they both quickly moved out the way, standing a little closer together in the process.

looking around for something to say, he settled on: “what are you buyin’ tonight? they just gave me a coupon for... oh. tampons” and grumbled as he read the slip of paper.

white laughed loudly, making freddy’s stomach do a back flip. “nah, i’m all stocked up back home. you save it for yourself... or don’t your wife need any?” 

freddy looked down and realised he was wearing his fake wedding band, just out of habit now. 

“fuck you, you know there’s no wife” freddy mumbled, only with a small amount of real malice.

“yeah. still good to check though”

“and why would you wanna check?” freddy asked low, forcing himself to look him in the eye for this. he was toeing the line he wanted to be safely behind, but it was difficult to resist when it was so easy.

now it was white’s turn to chew the inside of his lip, considering his next move. “she’d probably be pretty pissed if you came back to mine right now. she could already have dinner waiting for you at home”

“well... she doesn’t”

“alright then. let me buy my shit and we can share the pizza i ordered before i left” 

“alright then”

“alright then” white said, patting his shoulder as he pushed past him.

freddy waited outside, body tingling with nerves again. he lit a cigarette and paced as he smoked.

*just say you have to get home. say ‘another night’. say you gotta see someone*

as much as he scolded himself, he knew that he wasn’t gonna leave. he was gonna do something he’ll pretend to regret and stick around for whatever. 

he was dragged away from his thoughts by a hand on the back of his neck. “you okay, orange?”

“yeah. yeah, i’m fine”

“kid, if you wanna go home, that’s fine. i can give you a ride or let you walk, i don’t mind”

“man” and freddy rubbed a hand over his face. “i don’t wanna go home. i wanna eat pizza with you. i’m just... jumpy... which i am every second of every day. i’m... we’re cool. and don’t call me ‘kid’” he ended with a smile.

white looked at him for a few long seconds. “okay. come on then ki- i mean... buddy”

freddy scoffed, picked up his bag and followed him to the car.

the drive to white’s apartment was alarmingly short, and freddy realised with a jolt that they only lived about 5 minutes apart, freddy’s _real_ apartment only being a few blocks over. they could have met at the laundromat or the supermarket or any number of places in the neighbourhood. white parked outside a large apartment building and led the way to the front door, plastic bag swinging.

freddy could feel the air crackling between them as they walked up the stairs, elbows occasionally brushing. white seemed infuriatingly calm, opening his door with one hand and graciously standing aside for freddy to enter first. 

it was, well. completely unremarkable. it was beige and clean and reasonably sized. 

freddy wanted to grab the guy by the shoulders and scream _‘i’m a cop! don’t let me in here! have some fucking self preservation! don’t trust me!_ ’. instead, he just watched white go to his kitchen and empty out his bag, pulling out cigarettes, eggs and a bottle of whiskey.

“your favourite” he said, picking it up and raising his eyebrows at freddy. freddy smiled shyly, unsure if it was an offering or not. he took a few steps closer, watching white put the eggs in his fridge.

freddy emptied his own bag onto the counter, and just as he was about to offer white a beer, the door buzzed. white opened it for the pizza guy, accepted the box and paid, freddy trying to blend in with the wall so the guy didn’t see him. not that there was anything suspicious about two guys eating pizza together.

“you pick what we watch. let me serve up” white said, and freddy didn’t argue, making himself comfortable on the couch and flicking through the channels. white put a plate with five slices and the beers down on the coffee table in front of freddy just as he picked a documentary about hurricanes to watch.

“nice, easy watching then?” white joked, sitting next to him with his own plate. freddy saw that he had only given himself three slices, and decided not to say anything. he could feel his ears going hot.

“it’s good to be informed. you never know when one’s gonna hit” he muttered.

“in california? you’re safe. unless you’re planning on going to florida after the job”

freddy’s stomach felt a little funny at the mention, so he just smiled and kept his eyes glued on the screen. he heard white snort with laughter and turned to him.

“jesus, orange, you got a fuckin’ hurricane in your _mind_. i can hear you worryin’ from over here” he said, gesturing with his slice of pizza. 

“sorry, i’ll... try an’ do it quietly”

“i’d feel better if you didn’t worry at all. i won’t mention the job again” white said, his voice going softer at the end.

freddy had no idea what he should say to that, so he just smiled gratefully and cracked open a beer, the can hissing over the narrator on the tv, white following suit.

they both watched in silence, save for some wincing sounds they both made at footage of the aftermath of one particularly horrible storm. freddy finished his food and burrowed back into the couch, drinking from his third beer and making semi regular glances at white. white was pretending not to notice freddy’s eyes on his arms and chest. 

*easy, freddy*

freddy took the last sip from his can and put it on the coffee table, feeling white track the movement. 

“you finished that? let me get you a real drink, come on” white said, nodding for them to go to the kitchen. 

freddy followed him, rolling his neck as he got up. he watched white’s muscles move under his shirt as he reached for some glasses. 

“here you go, your new drink of choice” white said, snapping freddy out of the interesting train of thought he was having. 

“thank you. i wish i had something as good to recommend to you” freddy said, accepting the glass of whiskey he was being handed. 

“i’m sure you’ll think of something” white said, bringing his own glass to his lips. 

*oh, come on. don’t encourage me*

freddy smirked, looking away to sip the whiskey. when he glanced back, white was still calmly looking at him, like he was just observing him. freddy took another sip that was worth about three regular sized ones, feeling the inside of his mouth get hot.

“hey, slow down. you gotta savour it”

freddy looked over white, took another sip and said “i don’t wanna slow down”. he realised he had lowered his glass too quick and spilt some on his shirt. 

*fuckin’ idiot*

“no?” white chuckled, averting his gaze to drink again. he could have imagined it, but freddy was sure he took a pretty big drink there too.

*come on, stop me. go sit back down. ask me to leave. go to the bathroom, whatever. don’t just stand there and let me do it*

as if white could read his mind, he leant back against the counter, determinedly putting a hand on it behind him, like he was planning on just standing there in front of freddy for a little while longer. bait.

freddy’s feet moved of their own accord, standing right in front of white. he put his glass on the counter next to him, then paused before easing white’s glass out of his hand to do the same. he could feel his pulse banging in his ears. his blood felt hot in his veins. his hand twitched at his side. white was just _looking_ at him.

“what are you doin’ orange?” he whispered, the trace of a smile on his lips.

*what was orange doing? orange had gone AWOL, was acting independently of all police training and common sense freddy used*

freddy grinned, a giggle bubbling up into his throat. he felt giddy, unsafe in his own skin. he took a step back, turning his body away momentarily, then ended up standing even closer than before, in between white’s feet. it was almost impossible to avoid eye contact when they were the same height and standing this close. he looked at white’s shoulder.

“i dunno. just... i dunno”

“yeah?”

“yeah”

“wh-“ but freddy didn’t give white a chance to finish. he surged forward, closing the agonising gap between them with a kiss. closed mouthed and deliberate, freddy put his hands on white’s face to keep him there for just a second longer before pulling away.

“sorry” he mumbled, his face tingling.

“don’t be” and white wrapped his arms around him tight and pulled him back in, so hard he could have bruised his lips. freddy wriggled in his grip, not to escape, but to free his arms so he could squeeze him back, one hand going to his thick bicep and the other to bunch in his shirt at his back. he could feel him everywhere from the knees up, almost leaning on him.

freddy parted his lips in an invitation that white gladly took, his tongue finding his as he pulled him impossibly closer. freddy felt crushed, like he could barely breathe, but still he tried to burrow closer, pushing white into the edge of his counter. white’s hand snaked down his back and grabbed his ass, right in the middle like he was trying to get his fingers in him through the faded denim. freddy gasped and felt himself be lifted half an inch, the heels of his converse leaving the floor as white manhandled him like he was as desperate as freddy was.

white’s other hand moved to one of freddy’s thighs, possessively hitching it up. freddy’s head was swimming, helpless in white’s arms and unwilling to do anything other than kiss him hungrily and press his fingertips into his skin. the smell of aftershave stung his nose as he pushed white’s head back with his kiss, sucking his tongue and licking his teeth to produce some disgusting sounds. white pulled away from his lips and attached to his neck, which freddy willingly exposed as he stretched sideways. 

he wondered if there were gonna be any marks, if he was going to have to get some makeup like he had done when he was at high school and his sister yelled at him for borrowing her’s and threatened to tell their mom when she saw what he had been using it for. it wasn’t going to be his fucking mom he was hiding hickeys from now, it was the entire LAPD.

larry, white, fuck, whatever his name was had trailed his lips back to freddy’s mouth and whispered “fuck, orange” against his wet lips.

*orange? wait. no.*

he felt his stomach drop like he had just tripped over something. it was like he was in his fake fucking commode story, because panic was hitting him like a bucket of water and there’s no way he could swim through this. he couldn’t do this shit with a guy that was only supposed to know him by a code name.

freddy gently pulled back, getting his neck and face out of reach from white’s lips. they were both out of breath, and white looked at him slightly confused, quickly licking his lips nervously like he was expecting something to happen.

“‘m sorry” freddy whispered, the room now feeling deathly silent despite the tv still humming. “i. i gotta go home, man” and he winced at how sad his cracking voice sounded.

white blinked back at him, lips slightly parted but unmoving. neither of them made an attempt to release the other as they stared each other down, each waiting for the other to say something.

white’s eyes were boyishly brown, and right now, with his face relaxed and waiting and still processing the words, he looked a lot younger. freddy gulped. 

“‘m really, really sorry. i just...” freddy trailed off. “it’s not you, it’s... like i said. i’m just jumpy”

his lungs were shrinking in his chest and white’s face was exactly the same, still waiting for something more to be said but freddy couldn’t explain it himself. 

“i fucked up man, i’m sorry, i shouldnta done that” he whispered again, even quieter than before, and it was saying that which made white react.

“hey, hey, no.” he cooed, hands falling away from his leg and his ass and cupping freddy’s face. “you didn’t fuck up, it’s okay. if you don’t wanna do nothin’ then i won’t be mad. it wasn’t a mistake, we’re stopping here, you’re goin’ home”

something stuttered behind freddy’s ribs, and not that he believed in that shit, but it felt like his heart just broke, and from his own fault too. he felt cold from the lack of contact where white’s hands had dropped him. bereft.

*so what now? are you running away or shoving your tongue back down his throat. you’re just standing there, mr. orange*

“‘m sorry. i think i just need to... i dunno”

“‘s okay. you want a ride home?” white asked, face still only a few inches away from his. his hands were hot and wide on freddy’s face. he was going to cry. 

“i- no. i’ll walk. shit, man, i’m so, so sorry” freddy whispered shaking his head a little on the last few words. he couldn’t do this. he wasn’t cut out for this. white didn’t deserve this. he-

“hey, you go nothin’ to be sorry for. lemme call you a cab. hey,” and he guided freddy’s face up to meet his eye again. “you’re changin’ your mind. that’s fine”

“white, i-“ freddy started, sounding imploring even though white was giving him everything he wanted and more than he deserved right now. white deserved the truth, but he couldn’t get it.

“larry. okay. you don’t gotta call me that shit, i’m larry to you” he said, and he looked kind and warm and forgiving and freddy didn’t know why he stopped kissing him. he opened his mouth to speak but white- larry interrupted. “you’re not disappointing me here, sweetheart. you gave me your company and your beer and you kissed me, and now you wanna go home... that sounds like a lovely evening to me, i don’t need anythin’ more”

freddy’s tongue was heavy in his mouth and he left his brain back at the corner store so all he did was nod, larry’s hands still on his face. he was still practically leaning on the guy, thighs and groins and stomachs pressed against each other over the counter, and it took all of his effort to peel away from it, only stepping back a few inches.

“larry, i’m really-“

“hey. nothin’ to be sorry for” larry said low, and it felt like he wasn’t talking to him, but talking _into_ him. he took his hands off freddy’s face and smiled reassuring, like he was a fucking toddler.

*come on, deep breath. you’re a big boy, use your words, asshole*

freddy closed his eyes and moved forward, pressing his temple against larry’s. he kissed near his ear, on his hairline and whispered, “i just need to slow down, is all. gotta get my head straight before i... whatever.”

“okay kid” larry whispered back. “an’ when you say get your head straight...?”

freddy grinned right against his ear. “i mean like, go to sleep, sober up, or somethin’. not get my head _straight”_

“just checking. don’t want any confusion” larry smiled against his own ear, then turned to kiss his cheek. “you want me to get you another shirt?”

“what? oh, fuck” when freddy remembered the cold alcohol on his chest, staining his favourite speedracer tshirt. “nah, it’s alright, i can...”

“it’ll stain if we don’t soak it now”

“uh. right. okay then, yeah. please”

“sure, wait here” and larry gently moved past and left, going into another room and giving freddy a chance to steady himself. he put the heels of his hands over his eyes and just thanked christ that they hadn’t started stinging earlier when he thought he was gonna melt.

larry was coming back in when he took his hands away, and freddy gave him a self deprecating smile, hand reaching out for the grey tshirt he was being offered. he shrugged off his red jacket and pulled the stained shirt off by grabbing between his shoulder blades, which made larry smile.

“o’connor’s baked goods - milwaukee, wisconsin” freddy read aloud from the shirt he had been handed, and immediately regretted it because it felt like he was asking larry to hand more of himself over.

he just smiled and said “nice donuts there”, jutting his chin out at the shirt. 

freddy pulled it on, feeling self conscious of the fact that his chest had gone very pink. the second his head popped out the neckline, he turned away from larry back to the glasses on the counter.

“this one mine?”

“what, you wanna finish it?”

“‘s rude to waste” and without waiting for an answer, freddy picked up one of the glasses and finished it. it burnt, predictably, and the inside of his mouth felt sour, but he picked up the other and finished that too, all with larry watching him. he had been lying when he said he wanted to sober up, because he’d hate himself even more right now if he was sober.

“let me call you that cab” larry said, and maybe it was his expression, or maybe it was just freddy, but he had no idea what the guy was thinking now.

after larry hung up, he took freddy’s stained shirt out his hands and told him to watch the tv until the taxi arrived. freddy just nodded and watched larry take his tshirt to the bathroom, where, with the door open, he left it to soak in the sink.

the hurricane documentary was over now, and a grainy movie freddy didn’t recognise was playing. black and white, mid-atlantic accents and swelling violin. that sort of thing. larry sat back next to him, a good few feet away and remarked lightheartedly about the actor, someone freddy didn’t recognise the name or face of. 

freddy was staring so determined at the screen, begging himself to pay attention to the old fashioned dialogue, that he almost forgot about the cab when the phone rang, and he jumped about a foot in the air.

“i’ll get your shirt cleaned and give it to you tuesday, yeah?” larry said to him at the door.

“okay. thanks for that. i’ll, um. i’ll give this back too”

“okay” and he saw larry’s hand twitch at his side like he was going to reach for him.

“i am sorry, though. like. i wanted to stay, but, i dunno. caught myself off guard or something”

“it’s okay, i get it. like i said, i’m glad you came over in the first place”

freddy nodded, looking at larry’s shoulder when he couldn’t meet his eyes. he felt like he owed him a better explanation, but he couldn’t provide one. he opened his mouth to speak, closing it again when he remembered that the taxi was waiting.

“i better go. bye”

“bye, kid. sorry- um. bye, orange”

freddy smiled at the spot on his shoulder again, then turned to leave.

he asked the driver to pull over at another liquor store so he could go and get more beer, then walked the rest of the way home. he had spent almost all of the cash he had, and he couldn’t think of a way to get it put on the undercover expenses.

he drank three more cans once he got back to his crumby fake apartment, the r&b song from the cab ringing in his mind. he passed out fully dressed on top of the covers.

he should have stayed.


	4. four

freddy spent the next few days on edge, to put it lightly. on top of his usual anxiety and dread, he now had to deal with the fact that he had now had two sexual encounters with a man he was supposed to help put in prison. three if you counted the thing in the car with the guy’s thumb stroking his lips. and based on how often his mind wondered to it, he was counting it.

despite all his fear and guilt, he couldn’t stop thinking about him. he had been trying his hardest to kill the most vulgar thoughts in their infancy, but it was getting difficult.he had also been thinking about all the small acts of kindness, ones that he definitely didn’t deserve. he didn’t deserve pizza and tshirts and a hand to help carefully dust away ash. he deserved... well. he didn’t deserve the good, or maybe it was bad luck, that kept bringing them together.

he deserved to be sitting back behind his desk at the station getting yelled at. he deserved to be back at his own crummy apartment, a place that he couldn’t paint blue because of the landlord so he had jumped at the opportunity to get the cover one where the walls were mouldy and needed painting over. he deserved to feel lonely and scared, even when surrounded by his work friends. he deserved his rare anonymous hookups that were satisfying less than half the time.

he needed to get larry out of his system. and he knew where to go.

freddy hadn’t been back here since his introduction to larry, and it occurred to him as he approached the bar that he could be here tonight, especially given their luck. he glanced around the room. no sign of him. good. that’d be lazy writing.

he decided _not_ to get any of the whiskey, as much as he enjoyed it, ordering three vodka shots instead. he did them all in quick succession and turned around, feeling his throat burn and his eyes water a little. he had had a few drinks at home so he felt relaxed enough to not chicken out of coming here. they were wearing off and he needed the shots to hit him as soon as possible.

*now for the tricky part*

he didn’t know how to do this bit well. whenever he had gotten lucky, it was because of, well, luck. he had no skill, no trick for getting anyone’s attention, and he certainly wasn’t going to approach anyone himself. he’d barely be able to get the words out.

he spent the better part of 10 minutes leaning against a wall trying to remember how to be relaxed. a few guys took some long looks over him, but moved on, got distracted by someone younger.

*fuck. how do people stand again? what’s my face supposed to do?*

his black tshirt was too tight and he kept pulling it around the neck and arms, no doubt only making him look more nervous. his grey jeans were tight too, and after another long look over the sticky floor, he realised these were the pair that he had almost burnt a hole into in larry’s car.

*fuck, i really can’t escape this guy*

freddy got another shot and felt the sharp anxiety dull a little. then a lot, very quickly. it worked a charm too, because within a few minutes he was following a guy to the bathroom without even getting a proper look at his face. all he noticed was that he was tall and had an ugly moustache. not that it mattered, he was gonna be behind freddy anyway.

he got fucked with his hands gripping the toilet cistern, knuckles going white from pain more than pleasure. he had started to get soft again by the time the guy came, but least he was rewarded with head afterwards for his patience. the guy wiped his mouth, and moustache, and left freddy panting against the stall wall after an awkward goodbye. he’s had worse. he’s had, and enjoyed, worse. still, it’s no bed of rose petals.

he pulled up his jeans, washed his hands and considered trying for someone else. he looked at his reflection and his face told him he was way too tired for that, and his knees agreed. resigned, he left the bar and hailed a cab.

he should have been grateful when the cab driver realised he was gonna puke a few moments before he realised it himself. he got kicked out about 10 minutes walking distance from his new home and he had to keep stopping, fearing he was gonna hurl a few times. 

*power on through. just get home and into bed. maybe a shower first. wait. stop*

he threw up against a wall, took a few heavy breaths, then punched the wall. hard. he took a few staggered steps back, clutching his hand and muttering under his breath. he flexed his fingers; they were fine, but fuck, that hurt. for a split second, he thought about doing it again, harder. he did.

“jesus, kid, are you okay?”

*oh fuck off. anyone but you. this joke is dead*

larry had pulled over, looking concerned at him out his open window. he reached his arm out and beckoned, holding his hand out to look at freddy’s. freddy really didn’t want to answer him, so he just went over and put his hand in larry’s, wincing when he touched his knuckles.

“sorry. and sorry for callin’ you ‘kid’”

freddy, again, didn’t really want to say anything to that. his tongue already didn’t feel like it was working. not worth risking saying something now. he nodded and watched where larry was delicately touching his hand. he felt another wave of dizziness hit him, so he braced an arm on the roof of the car and rested his forehead on it, breathing shakily out his mouth. he wasn’t sure how much of this was from the booze anymore. he lifted his head after over a minute, and he realised larry had stopped trying to sooth his hand, and was now just holding it between his two palms.

“you got your keys? let me get you home”

*speak. say something*

“yeah”

*okay, good attempt*

he felt larry’s eyes scorching him as he walked round the front of the car and got in the passenger seat, immediately putting his head in his hands. thankfully, larry didn’t say anything and just drove. freddy’s sore hand shook as he tried to unlocked the apartment door, clenching his jaw as he felt larry still watching him. 

*go away. stop looking at me*

larry took his keys off him and unlocked the door, holding it open for freddy. he pushed through and got himself a glass of water, larry’s eyes still on him. 

*please fuck off*

larry looked around the apartment, walking around until he found the bathroom. he emerged a few seconds later with a wad of wet toilet paper, water dripping down his arm. freddy winced when it was put to his forehead, not expecting the cold.

“sorry” larry muttered again, wiping the sweat off freddy’s forehead, lip and neck. he probably looked like a fucking wreck. he felt like it. he sipped his water with his uninjured hand, larry wiping the knuckles on the other. they weren’t bleeding a lot but dragging the paper over the torn skin made freddy full body flitch, pulling his hand away and spilling a bit of his water.

*please leave*

“you want me to go?” larry whispered, piercing gaze like he had just read his mind.

*i’m a fucking adult. i can take care of a busted hand and a hangover*

but there was something still shaking freddy, alcohol almost all puked from his system. whatever else was going on in him right now made him shake his head. larry nodded in response, looking at the floor, thinking. 

“did something happen?”

*fuck. i dunno. i got drunk, had average sex. that’s what usually happens except now i’m having a panic attack in a kitchen where i haven’t figured out how to use the oven yet*

“no. just feel like shit” he said, his tongue sounding too big for his mouth. larry chuckled a little at that, and freddy couldn’t help doing the same. he should have been panicking about having larry in the apartment, but he was more focused on the sound of the water dripping onto his kitchen linoleum. he felt his head steady as he listened to the beat of it hitting the floor, right next to larry’s shoes.

anxiety as a knot in his throat. anxiety was a pit in his stomach. anxiety was an ache in his shoulders. jesus christ, anxiety was a worm burrowed under his skin for the past few months, but maybe even longer because this feeling was all too familiar, something he knew from his first day of high school, when he couldn’t find his classroom first period and when some kid at lunch called him a fag for sitting with his sister and her friends.

“what d’ya need? there anythin’ i can do?” larry said quietly, finger brushing the back of the hand freddy had around his glass. “i’m not tryna make a move on ya, i’m just askin’” he added.

“i need a shower” freddy said, eyes still glued on the small puddle on the floor, then, quickly, “i’m not makin’ a move either, i just need one”. it was true. he was sweaty and cold and the guy had fucked him raw and came in his ass and he also needed a few moments away from larry because he felt like his head might overheat.

“alright. you want me to stay here or leave you be?”

*oh fuck you, don’t make me say it*

“just uh... just wait for me. you can watch tv or whatever”. he didn’t know what he wanted larry to do after that so they’d cross that bridge when they came to it.

freddy left larry watching some dumb late night talk show while he got some clothes off his bed and went to his bathroom. he turned the water up at hot as he could stand it then got under, breathing in the steam for a few moments. 

*this is very fucked up. i’ve left a crook in my living room at 1am while i take a shower to clean some cum out of myself and try to come down from an anxiety attack*

he dried off, brushed his teeth and got changed, all without looking in the mirror once, before taking a few deep breaths and opening the door to face larry. he was watching the tv with his elbows on his knees, like he was ready to jump into action at any moment. he looked over at the sound of the door opening and smiled sympathetically.

“better?”

*loads*

“yeah” freddy breathed and shyly walked to sit next to him on the couch, leaving a good few feet between them. larry was polite enough to ignore the few times freddy looked at him for long moments, opened his mouth to say something then went quiet. freddy decided to just watch the tv with him for a while. 

after almost half an hour of silently watching tv, larry stifled a yawn.

*freddy, you fuckin’ idiot, let the man leave*

before freddy could say something though, larry opened his mouth and said “orange, i don’t know what you want me to do here, but i won’t mind either way. you want me to fuck off, just say, because i won’t be offended, and i’ll let you sleep. but if you want me to stay, make sure you don’t choke on your vomit, or... your hand fuckin’ falls off, i’ll sleep on the couch and i’ll buy you a good breakfast for your hangover”

freddy really didn’t know what to say at first, other than “don’t call me that. my name’s freddy, please don’t call me orange”. it didn’t really register, what he had just said, until a few seconds after, but he didn’t feel anything.

larry looked shocked, but only for a split second before “okay freddy”

freddy put his face in his hands, eye scrunching up under his fingers. “please stay. i’ll get you some clothes and um... yeah, please stay”

“sure freddy”

*fuck*

freddy took his hands away from his face and forced himself to smile so he looked grateful. larry returned it and patted him on the shoulder. 

it was only when freddy was looking for some clothes for larry, that he realised that he was wearing his tshirt. he got some sweatpants for larry, ones where he had picked a hole into the knee.

there was an awkward moment where freddy handed larry his clothes so he could get changed in the bathroom, and freddy got him a blanket and hid in his room, biting his nails when he heard larry coming out.

freddy got into bed and he could hear larry getting comfortable on the other side of the door. they lay in silence for a few minutes before freddy felt a vulnerable bubble in his throat and, well, fuck it. 

he opened the door and saw larry lying on his side on the couch, looking far too big for it.

“um. do you wanna?” and freddy nodded back to his bedroom. “that thing’s not very comfortable and...” he trailed off, not adding what he was thinking.

“i don’t mind, this is okay”

*oh come on, please don’t make me say it*

“no, i just mean. like. i want you to. i don’t sleep good, so. if you want”

“oh. sure then”

freddy smiled and turned, not wanting to look him in the eye and climbed into his bed flat on his back. larry followed, about to get in next to him with one knee on the mattress before he said “do you have any pot? you look like you could use some”

*fuck*

“yeah, i um...” and freddy got up to retrieve the evidence locker bag holdaway had given him from his dresser. it was a fucking prop, he had no idea what strain it was and he didn’t have anything to smoke it with, and he was supposed to be a pothead that had dealt to his friends and his hands were shaking when larry took the bag off him.

“get into bed, i’ll take care of it”

freddy lay down and watched larry leave the room. he saw him go through his jacket pockets and pull out a pack of cigars, then sit down on the couch to start unrolling one.

part of him wanted to tell the man to leave, that he was fine, that he was just drunk and he was a fucking adult and he should be left to feel like shit on his own. but he wasn’t strong enough. it takes a real fucking tough guy to turn down help when you need it that bad, and freddy wasn’t tough. he was leaning into whatever help larry was offering because he was fucking weak.

“you’re thinkin’ too loud, here” larry said when he came back in the room, lighting the blunt using his trick on the zippo after a couple of tries, then slotting it into freddy’s lips for him.

freddy was so surprised that he almost dropped it, larry getting under the covers and sitting against the pillows next to him. “bless your heart for what you’re tryna do, larry” freddy said after his first inhale, unable to meet his eye so he smiled at the cherry of the blunt in his fingers. 

larry didn’t respond, just made an amused sort of noise and watched freddy smoke.

freddy hadn’t smoked since he was in high school and it hit him hard after only a few minutes. after a while larry took it off him and smoked in silence while freddy stared at the ceiling and felt himself go loose. he shouldn’t have felt safe like this.

he gestured for the blunt again, and instead of handing it to him, larry put it straight back in his lips again, making him smile around the leaf. he took a couple more drags then handed it back, rolling onto his side to look at larry. “what were you doin’ out in the middle of the night?” he found himself saying, like his mouth just fell open and it came out. he wasn’t sure why, he didn’t care.

“couldn’t sleep. got backwoods and was on my way home when i saw you” larry said casually. “dare i ask what you were doing?” he smiled.

“uh” freddy started, then laughed a little. there was no delicate way to put it. “i’m not sure i should be using that type of language”

larry smiled too, handing him the blunt and rolling onto his side as well. “i thought as much... did you go to uh, the same place as before?”

freddy wondered if he was being teased for a second, but larry’s face was just curious. “yeah... quality of men there has gone way down in the last month” and freddy laughed when larry did.

“yeah?” and larry took the blunt back and dragged. “it’s very different to the places available when i was your age... back in milwaukee, there was a place and it was full of gnarled old truck drivers mainly... i guess i look like one of them now”

“sounds ideal for me. i’ll check it out when i visit...” and freddy looked down at his, well, larry’s tshirt. “o’connor’s baked goods”

“yeah, you’ll love it” larry smiled “drinks were a lot cheaper too. and the music wasn’t as loud. and they had more than one stall”

freddy snorted with laughter, turning his head into his pillow. “you’ll have to take me there after, when we’re rich” he mumbled, then froze after he realised what he just said. 

larry just made an amused sound out his nose and said “gotta go further than milwaukee, freddy. there are cheap bars all over the world for you to enjoy”

“i guess” freddy said, his brain starting to feel like it was pressing against the inside of his skull. “i, uh...” but he couldn’t think what to say after that so he just closed his eyes. he was barely even stoned, mainly just exhausted and his body was begging him to sleep so his adrenaline could finally drop.

“don’t worry about it... go to sleep” he heard larry say, then his heart jumped in his chest when he felt larry’s arm slink over him. he thought he was being held for a second before he realised larry was reaching over to the ashtray behind him. he retracted his arm and went to lying flat on his back next to him, freddy peeking just to check what he was doing. his eyes were heavy and his limbs felt like they were floating away, so he rolled onto his front and fell asleep almost immediately.

//

when he woke up, he first noticed the hand shaking him by the shoulder. he was plastered against larry’s side, leg hitched up over his hips.

then he noticed the noise.

the phone was ringing and his eyes shot open and the room was still dark and it took him a good few seconds to realise what was happening. he almost fell out of the bed and scampered out of the bedroom.

“hello?” he gasped when he grabbed the handset, not wanting it to ring for a moment longer and wake anyone else up. he knew in the back of his mind who was going to answer but it still hit him like a shovel to the face. nothing kills a high like holdaway’s voice.

“hey freddy, i just got off doing somethin’ for the case, and i just wanted to catch you before i got home”

“dude, i’m fuckin’...” freddy trailed off, still half asleep and half stoned and half drunk.

“shit, were you sleepin’?” holdaway asked. “you’re always awake this late, sorry”

freddy sensed larry’s eyes on him through the open bedroom door so he walked over to his table to escape his sight. and hopefully his earshot. he looked at his watch he had left on the table, and realised he had only been asleep less than an hour.

“yeah, i was fuckin’ asleep, what do you want? can this please wait?”

“it’s fuckin’ important, so no. your ass is asleep all day, you can stay awake for this”

“i- fuck, man. this really isn’t a good time. like, _really_ isn’t a good time” freddy whispered, hoping his hissing got the point across.

“there _i_ _s_ no good time for this, jodie just pulled the file on your buddy white, one of the cops outside your place helped pick him out, and-“

“fuck, man, are they still there?” freddy hissed, his blood running cold. he had been too drunk earlier to remember that he was bringing a criminal into the apartment with cops outside.

“not right now, no, they’re only there on days when you get picked up for meetings. that’s not the point, what i’m tryna tell you is-“

“dude. not right now” freddy said, trying very hard to maintain his composure and keep his voice down. “i cannot express to you how much of a bad time this is. trust me”

there was a pause at the end of the line as holdaway took a few seconds before: “shit, freddy, do you have a fuckin’ girl back there?”

*finally, a fucking out. make note to thank every god you know for this*

“i- yes. so can this please wait?”

“asleep my ass... alright then, fuckin’ go... i’m not lettin’ you go to go get your dick wet, i’m lettin’ you go because i need your full concentration for this. i’m callin’ you tomorrow”

“yep. yes. good. bye”

“bye, romeo” holdaway said, sounding thoroughly annoyed.

freddy hung up, feeling the overwhelming urge to punch a wall again. he didn’t, it still fucking hurt, so he squeezed the phone and shook it before setting it down and trying to steady his breathing. 

he wasn’t about to go back and look at larry. he knew he was too polite to ask any questions, but one look at his face and he was going to spiral again. their little bubble had just been burst, he had just been reminded that he was a cop on a case, with a folder of evidence building up that some lawyer would produce when larry was sitting in an orange jumpsuit.

he strained his ears, listening out for any movement from his bedroom, but there was nothing other than the slight rush of air from where he had left the window cracked. he glanced at the couch, and as unappealing as crumbs and stains and lumpy cushions looked, he wasn’t about to go back to his bed.

//

in the morning he was awoken under similar circumstances again; a hand on his shoulder and a noise stirring him awake. it wasn’t a phone though, it was larry’s voice right next to his face, and when he opened his eyes he saw larry kneeling next to the couch he was lying on. it took him a few seconds to realise that what he was saying was: “buddy, you’re on my jacket”

“huh? oh shit, sorry” freddy mumbled, eyes bleary and his entire body feeling terrible. he sat up slowly, realising there was a weight on him that he hadn’t gone to sleep with. “wait. what did you sleep with?” he said, motioning at the covers he had been tucked into.

“i was fine, don’t worry about me. i’m goin’ now so you can have your bed back. get a little more sleep”

*wait, no. what?*

“i-“ freddy says, and he reaches out to hold larry’s wrist as if that would keep him here. “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry, please don’t go”

“kid, you got nothin’ to be sorry for, i just wanna let you sleep in your bed. the couch isn’t comfortable”

freddy rubbed his free hand over his face, collecting himself and trying to piece together what he felt. what he felt was mainly embarrassment. larry took his jacket from where freddy had been lying on it and stood up, freddy’s hand falling away from him as he did.

“you want me to help you move this to your bed?” larry said, collecting the rest of his clothes from the floor where he had left them.

*wait. wait wait wait*

“please, just- wait” freddy said, scrabbling to stand up on the couch so he stood a head higher than larry. he put his hands on his shoulders, half to steady himself on the cushions and half to keep larry there, so he couldn’t run away yet. “i’m uh, fuck. i’m really sorry about last night. i’m not. ya know. i’m not like that. i don’t usually get fucked up and punch walls and have panic attacks. i’m usually very... normal. don’t think that i’m... i dunno...” and for lack of a better word, “weird... i’m very normal and cool about that sorta thing... usually”

larry’s face sort of pulled in on itself with concern or confusion or maybe something else, like amusement, and he put down his clothes on the couch. “i... orange, i don’t think you’re weird, you just had a bad night, that’s all. hell, i feel like that all the time. i’m lucky you haven’t driven past me when it happened... you’re okay, i get it”

freddy’s brain was still whirring and he had more to say and larry was looking at him all sympathetic and he thought he was going to scream. “alright, but... i’m just sorry, ‘cause you stayed over and you used your cigar on my shitty weed and i was like sprawled all over you an’ then my phone rang and then i slept on the couch and you gave me the blankets and i’m sorry. you probably just wanted to go home and sleep” he said, the words tumbling out of him hurriedly, all while larry kept looking at him with his pitying smile.

“i-“ larry started, and he honest to god _laughed_ , before he reached up to put his hands on freddy’s hips and look him in the eye. “i don’t fuckin’ mind, kid. it’s no hassle for me. i would have had a worse night if i just left you here because i would have been worried...”

“so will you stay?” freddy whispered, before he leaned forward a little, tugging larry closer by the shoulders until he was pressing his hips into larry’s chest, sending a tiny shudder up his spine at the contact. larry raised his eyebrows in response, freddy pushed his hair back from his face, letting the curls thread through his fingers as he sent the invitation.

“kid...”

“freddy. it’s freddy” and he realised that he had already told him.

larry’s face cracked into a surprised smile for a moment before he raised his eyebrows again. “freddy, huh?”

“yeah”

“okay, freddy... i wasn’t sure if you remembered sayin’ that” and larry slipped his hands from his hips up to his waist under his, well, literally _his_ shirt, branding freddy with his handprints on his skin. he had a look on his face that looks confused, or maybe apprehensive.

*i haven’t fucked up have i?*

but no, larry slid his hands up freddy’s sides, over his ribs and stopping under his armpits before slowly dragging down again, watching them move before looking back at freddy and saying “why are you askin’ me to stay? not satisfied from your night out?”

freddy laughed breathily, couldn’t help it, and said “it was never gonna be exactly what i wanted. was settin’ myself up for disappointment really”

“yeah? what was it you wanted exactly?” larry said slow, watching his thumbs sweep freddy’s hips.

“uh” and freddy laughed nervously again. “i’m sure you can guess”

“of course” larry smiled, not looking up. he was exploring, still apprehensive, testing for something.

freddy wondered what the fuck it was, wondered how explicitly he would have to tell larry that he wants him to stay and kiss him stupid and take him back to his bed to do what they should have done last night, instead of freddy going to that stupid bar. 

he could feel himself hard between his legs, partially just from waking up but mainly from larry’s presence, warm and pressing all over him and he still smelt of his cologne and fuck- if freddy could fucking collect himself for once he could tell him that he needed him to stay here, to talk, to fuck, maybe just to go to sleep.

“we can just go back to sleep if you want” he mumbled.

“i don’t think we’ll sleep, though. i should go home. let you rest for real” larry whispered, smiling and still not daring to look up at freddy and meet his eye. he didn’t move away, and freddy guessed he didn’t mean what he was saying.

they stood still, listening to each other breathing and waiting for something to happen.

finally, something does, but it’s the worst possible thing because, _fuck_ , the phone rings and larry’s hands drop away instantly as if he got burned.

the shrill scream from the handset is enough to almost make freddy’s knees buckle with despair, but he remains upright and takes his hands out of larry’s hair and opened his mouth to say something, looking for a reason or an excuse or maybe a distraction so they can forget that it’s ringing.

larry stood back and picked up his clothes from the couch.

“i’ll get changed in the bathroom so you can talk” and he left freddy standing on his lumpy couch cushions with a hard dick and his shirt still rucked up a little at his sides.

of course, after he collects himself and climbs down from the couch to answer, it’s holdaway that greets him with an unimpressed “you good to talk right now?”. he reeled off that they had to meet that evening at the little legue stands, and the words barely make an impression on freddy until he hears the words ‘mr. white’.

freddy hung up and waited for larry to come out, but he didn’t, and for a second freddy was a little touched that he hadn’t been eavesdropping enough to realise it was over, but he stomped that feeling down and knocked gently on the bathroom door.

“if you’re ready, uh, you can come out”

he opened the door and he was dressed again, holding the clothes freddy leant him in one hand. he did a strained, thin smile at him and pushed past, heading for the front door.

“i- wait. um. i’m sorry, i-“

“kid... freddy.” larry corrected himself. “you’re okay. just go back to sleep, you still look tired. drink some water, eat something later. just take it easy today. i’ll see you on tuesday”

freddy walked over, wishing he had a good case, something he could say to make him stay, but he knew he didn’t. he didn’t care if they didn’t do anything, he didn’t care if they just went back to sleep, but he could feel anxiety settling back in him- no, on him, like it was sitting on his shoulders, and he didn’t know what to do or what to say and larry was looking at him, almost impatiently, because he just wants to leave and get away from this freak show.

“fuck. okay. see you tuesday”

larry nods and says “bye” and is gone, just like that. freddy watched the space he had just been standing in for a moment then took a short, clipped breath. 

he did go back to bed, as ordered, and tried very hard to ignore who it smelt faintly of. he tried focusing on going to sleep, but the smell of weed and a cologne that wasn’t his was stuck to the sheets and seemed to be pushing itself into his brain so he just lay there for hours until his hunger tipped into pain and be got up to eat.

//

freddy threw up again that evening, thankfully in his toilet this time instead of a wall. he had gone to see holdaway begrudgingly, and he was told about everything jodie had found on larry’s file. freddy supposed he must have had good control over his expression, because holdaway didn’t seem to notice the little breakdown freddy was having right in front of him. he had wanted to hit holdaway, get him to stop telling him, or better, tell him it was a sick joke he was doing to test him. 

he wasn’t even that shocked, he had thought to himself later when he got home. he had spent this past two weeks torturing himself with all manner of horrible things larry could have done in the past. he knew he hated cops, he knew he most likely had killed people. 

but to hear it like that. it was personal and angry, not some shootout with the law to save his neck but carefully done. and to another undercover cop too. 

it was 5pm on a saturday and he was curled up on his bathroom floor, forehead pressed against the edge of the toilet seat as he willed himself to steady his stomach, his breathing and his heart rate.

*wonder if larry was ever gonna tell me that. like when he tells his little stories to make the guys laugh, was that one ever gonna come up? bet they’d all think it’s hilarious*

he almost fell asleep like that, body exhausted from the shaking. he showered, taking care to scrub his forehead, but was painfully reminded of his situation when he collapsed naked and not fully dry into his bed. he was too tired to change the sheets but the smell made him want to crawl out of his skin.

he slept anyway, plagued with unconscious feelings of uneasiness with no face attached.


	5. five

when tuesday came, freddy realised that there was a very real possibility of him throwing up in larry’s car. he was getting changed, almost ready to go down to the corner, and he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

a big mistake. he was already sweating.

he didn’t look like a cop. he barely looked like freddy at all. the hawaiian shirt was all orange, with a bit of larry and pink’s influence to guide him on how to fit in. the ring was orange. 

but larry already knew freddy. knew the letterman jacket and the posters and the fact that the ring was fake and the fact that he was a fag. if he knew freddy was hiding that, maybe he could wonder what else he was hiding.

a car horn honked and freddy jumped out of his skin. he took a deep breath and left the building, only to find larry’s car parked directly outside instead of on the corner.

freddy felt as nervous and self conscious as he did the first night he went to smokey pete’s. his feet were falling wrong and his arms were swinging wrong and his face was all sorts of wrong but he got to the car and larry greeted him with: “hey. thought it’d be stupid goin’ to the corner if i knew where you lived”

freddy must have said something or made a noise or given some look of recognition because larry said something else and started the car. 

if larry realised something was up, he didn’t say it. he probably just thought he was embarrassed about the other night. which of course he was, humiliation stinging him every few minutes as he was reminded of the events from that night. or that night. or that night. or that morning. 

so he kept up with larry, laughing and asking questions and listening.

they got a taco and freddy paid for his own after refusing larry’s offer to do so. it became clear that the guy was pitying him. didn’t want to mention how embarrassing freddy was. freddy didn’t care, it was better than the alternative. he was also kicking himself for relaxing a little, forgetting for a few moments what holdaway had told him and enjoying larry politely acting like nothing had happened and going over the job like a professional.

when he was dropped off, freddy realised that, like he had predicted, he had forgotten larry’s tshirt. he turned around to say something once he got out the car, but larry waved goodbye and drove off before he could.

//

it went the same for the next week, either at meetings or when they were on stakeout duty. larry was friendly and polite but never pushed it too far, and always left in a hurry.

freddy was once again, kicking himself for being upset by this. he thought larry had actually been into him, but he was acting like freddy had a contagious disease that he didn’t want to be rude about.

*not that you should care* he had to remind himself. *he likes to kill cops on their birthdays*

there was only a week left until the ‘big day’. holdaway started calling it that because of the suits, but it felt more like a funeral than a wedding to freddy.

his table at the fake apartment was piling up with paperwork and notes and god knows what else he had collected for the case, and because he wasn’t supposed to go into the station, he had to be on the phone all day to the other guys on the case. whoever said undercover work was fun was dead wrong. and that’s without the sexual history with a man that’s murdered police and their wives.

freddy was sitting at the table now, scribbling down locations for the hundredth time for a hundredth file. he looked at the orange post-it note to his left, reading ‘ _frankie ferchetti - 6pm - friday_ ’ and frankie’s desk number.

*oh fuck*

freddy didn’t have to look at his watch to know that it was well, _well_ past 6, and cursed frankie for forgetting too. he found the phone and dialled the desk number, knowing full well that frankie would be home by now.

another officer called marvin picked up and after freddy explained, gave him frankie’s home number, which freddy said aloud back to him, then hung up to dial it. it rang twice before:

“hey frankie, sorry for callin’ late, but i forgot you wanted to talk and i know you wanted to talk about the-“

“freddy?”

*holy shit*

“um”. freddy’s mouth went dry because that was definitely not frankie’s voice but it was certainly familiar and-

“it’s freddy, isn’t it? i’m not frankie, you musta dialled me by accident”

freddy’s blood started draining out of him, pooling around his feet to make him feel heavy because _fuck_ , larry picked up when he was supposed to be talking to a superior officer about the case.

*what are the fuckin’ chances”

“shit. i’m sorry. fuck. i remembered the number wrong”

larry chuckled and said “don’t worry about it. you better call around an’ find ‘frankie’s’ number ‘cause this ain’t it... don’t keep your... i dunno, landlord, dealer, hookup- whatever- waiting”

freddy laughed a little at that, leaning on his elbow with the phone to his ear. “nah, he’s... he’s none a those. just a friend”.

“just a friend, huh?” larry said cooly. 

freddy frowned a little at that, unsure of what it meant. “yeah. i’m not-“ but he stopped himself before he said anything else. he wasn’t sure what larry was asking, and he was even less sure what he was answering. he was supposed to be saying goodbye and asking marvin for frankie’s number again.

“you’re not what? you can’t tell me that you don’t fuck around with other guys” larry said, voice difficult to read through the phone. he was audibly smiling, but he also sounded a little cold.

“what? no, i mean. i mean i don’t have a boyfriend. or anything... else you could confuse with one... that sounded like what you were askin’, i dunno...” 

there was a pause at the other end of the line, and freddy strained his ears until larry said: “it wasn’t him callin’ you? you didn’t fuck him? the other night i mean?”

freddy’s mouth fell into a shape like he was about to say something but paused too. 

*what the fuck was he talkin’ about?*

“what? no! that was... that was two separate people. with very different... relationships... guy callin’ me was a someone i’ve been workin’ with. nothin’ like...” and he trailed off, still confused.

“right” and a long pause before: “shit”

“what?”. freddy was panicking a little now. 

“i- i thought that you were involved with someone else. that whoever was callin’ you was the guy you fucked and you were callin’ him back tonight... i wanted to see what you’d say”

freddy frowned again. “no. it’s all... it’s nothin’ like that. i don’t have nothin’ like that. like, ever”

“shit. i’m sorry”

“you don’t gotta be sorry, it’s-“

“no, i mean... that’s why i left. that’s what i figured when the phone rang that mornin’. i thought the guy you met was callin’ you again. i would have... i dunno. stuck around” and larry paused. “i never got you the breakfast i promised”

freddy had to switch the phone to his other ear and run his fingers through his hair, processing what he heard. “you... okay. i mean... i was just callin’ a friend tonight” and he looked at his watch. if frankie hadn’t called him by now, he had probably forgotten too.

“right... sorry. i really got the wrong idea, huh?” larry said, and freddy could hear him running a hand through his hair too.

“i... i guess” and then, “you would have stayed?”

“yeah. i would have got you breakfast, i would have-“ and he chuckled a little, and freddy did too, remembering the situation they abandoned when the phone rang.

“right. you woulda come to bed if i asked?”. freddy didn’t realise he had said it until it was halfway out his mouth.

“would you have asked?”

“yeah” he said, because the words had been on his lips, just waiting for the opportunity before the phone rang that morning.

“then yeah. if you had asked, yeah”

“cool” freddy same lamely, unsure of what response would have been appropriate. his mouth was dry again and he was breathing shallow and he had shuffled right to the edge of his chair, another half inch and he’d be on the floor.

there was a long moment of silence, neither of them daring to speak as they stewed with what they had been saying.

“you, um. you should call your friend. write down his phone number this time, don’t call me again” larry said, smile audible again.

“you don’t want me to call you again?” freddy teased.

“well. i wouldn’t mind. just not at the expense of your friend. another time”

“okay. yeah... also- just checking, you didn’t fuck me because you thought i was with another guy... instead of like... the anonymous diamond heist thing?”

larry laughed, loud. “that’s joe’s rules, i don’t give a shit about them. i won’t break my own rules”

”right”

”besides. it’s a little late for me to get preachy about anonymity now, isn’t it _freddy_?”

”i guess so... i guess so _larry”_

“okay, freddy” larry said quietly, the phone making his voice crackle a little.

“okay, i’ll, um. i’m glad we sorted that out”

“yeah, me too... bye freddy”

“bye larry. you call me, yeah?”

“yeah, i will. bye” and another moment of baited breath followed before the phone clicked off.

freddy considered calling larry again right that second, but he still felt out of breath from that exchange. like fuck was he calling frankie though. he was probably putting his kids to bed, catching up with his wife, whatever normal guys did at this time of night. not talking to cop killing, career criminals over the phone about his relationship status.

he liked holdaway, he really did, he was one of very few people at work that actually treated him like a real cop. but right now, knowing what holdaway had cost him when he called that morning, freddy had never resented a man more. 


	6. six

when freddy woke up the next morning, he had the peculiar sensation of unease over something he couldn’t quite place.

*oh, wait. ah.*

he had the horrible feeling that the police might have been tapping the phone in this apartment.

freddy made a quick phone call to holdaway to check, where he had to pretend he had ordered a pizza last night, and he found out that all calls were being recorded and would be listened to at a later date. he somehow managed to convince holdaway to delete the audio from last night to save files to look through later. freddy was also tempted to go into the office just to check he had done it, but trusted holdaway’s desire for efficiency. holdaway said something about meeting one last time before the heist that freddy mumbled an agreement to, barely listening, then stammered a ‘goodbye’.

he hung up, sat down on his couch with the heels of his hands in his eyes and took a deep breath. 

this situation was fucked as soon as he locked eyes with ‘mr. white’ at smokey pete’s. what had already happened had already happened. they had no chance of this being normal. now he just had to try and get out of this alive. to not get his hopes up about the job or what evidence he has or getting promoted. he just had to live through it now.

larry couldn’t do shit. he didn’t know shit. if he had any suspicion about freddy, he wouldn’t have been kissing him or worrying about him being involved with someone else or cleaning his wounds and helping him get high. 

freddy wondered if that would have even made a difference. because if larry hadn’t done any of that, he would still be wanting him. he was fucked up, he was in too deep to stop feeling like this now. mr. orange didn’t exist to larry, he knew about freddy, save for one key detail. if he could just keep that from him for five more days, he was safe.

he rubbed his hands over his face, muttered a string of nonsensical curse words under his breath. 

then, the phone rang again.

*holy shit, it’s him*

freddy jumped to his feet, smoothing over his shirt like larry had knocked at the door instead.

“hey” he said breathily, resisting the urge to bite his thumbnail.

“orange? it’s eddie”

“oh” and freddy cleared his throat, disappointment and embarrassment flashing over him. “what’s up?” he said, reverting back to the snarling drawl he had gotten used to using for eddie.

“we’re goin’ boots and socks tonight, i’ll pick you up at 7, okay?”

“uh, yeah. sure. all of us?”

“yes, fuckin’ all of us, i’m not takin’ you out on a date, mr. orange”

“okay, okay” freddy bristled. “alright, see ya then”

“see ya” and eddie hung up hurriedly.

freddy couldn’t help from scowling at the phone before throwing it onto the couch and stomping to the kitchen to get a drink.

*there’s only a few days left before it all goes to hell, so why not make the most of my time left with him. get him out of my system*

after he got ready and pulled on his o’connor’s baked goods shirt, he stood on the street corner for eddie when the time came, and *praise the fucking heavens*, it was just eddie and pink in the car.

he laughed at all the right times, made no attempt to involve himself in a discussion about an actress because he had already embarrassed himself on that front, and managed to keep his fingers from drumming against his leg. so far, so good.

all that he looked at was the grimy floor when they walked into the bar, not daring himself to look up and search for larry’s eye. his vision clung to the sad, greasy wooden floorboards until he had no choice but to look up to try and find a seat at the table.

typically, the only one free was between larry and brown. just his luck, or course. he sat down feeling like it was the chair in the interrogation room and he was being watched through the one-way glass.

before he could even consider looking at him properly, he picked up larry’s glass and took a sip, eyes on brown as he greeted him. he smiled at him, pretending to have heard whatever he had been talking about before he sat down. brown said something to blonde across the table, the conversation already rowdy. now it was freddy’s cue to turn in his seat to larry, and when he did, he was met with eyes that looked as nervous as he felt.

“hi” freddy said dumbly, passing the glass back to larry.

“hey, orange” he replied, dimples appearing shyly, before he took a sip and looked away, tuning in to whatever eddie was saying.

freddy settled back in his seat a little, and was eventually able to catch up with the conversation and make his own joke about the movie pretty woman, one that he had not seen, but knew enough about for the joke to get a laugh.

“i’m gettin’ anotha one a these, you want one?” he heard low in his left ear, and he turned his face a fraction before he was almost nose to nose with larry.

“yeah. please. thanks” he whispered, eyes stuck on the pronounced cupids bow from which the words came. the lips smiled and larry stood up, using freddy’s shoulder for leverage. 

larry took a few quick glances back at freddy from the bar, and freddy let his gaze linger on him for as long as he could allow before looking back at whoever was talking about stevie wonder. he felt eyes on him when he laughed.

when larry came back, he had a tumbler of whiskey in each hand and nodded for freddy to pull his chair out for him. freddy did, and after half a second of flinching his arm back and forth, decided to leave it on the back of the chair as larry settled back against it.

the move was about as smooth as a shag carpet, but it got the desired effect of larry’s attention, and thankfully _only_ larry’s attention, as the others kept arguing about popeye the sailor.

the next hour passed with ease, or as easy as it could go. freddy could feel larry look at him when he laughed or spoke or ran a hand through his hair but he couldn’t bear to look back at him because *jesus christ, i’m gonna fuckin’ combust if i look him in the eye but i’m gonna havta if i invite him over*

somehow under the radar of everyone else, larry leaned in real close and said “you been empty a while, orange, what can i get ya?”

freddy could have laughed at the double entendre if larry didn’t feel so close and if he was even sure it was on purpose. he cleared his throat and dared himself to turn his head slightly, catching sight of half larry’s face and a nose full of the smell of his aftershave and cigarette, so strong it was like he had shotgunned it right off him. 

larry tapped the side of freddy’s empty glass, making the melting ice rattle. “same as before, thanks” freddy said, and then stood when larry did, following him to the bar two steps behind.

larry ordered for the two of them then turned to freddy, giving him a long, reading looked. freddy started moving his mouth, the words right on his tongue when larry said, calm as ever: “you wanna come back to mine?”

freddy was stunned but recovered quickly with a grin and a nod. “yeah. i do. please”

larry smiled back, taking the drinks as they were handed to him and he leaned in again. “in about ten minutes, say that you’re tired” and he headed back to their table. it took freddy a few seconds to process, 1) what larry had just said, and 2) that larry put the drinks on his own tab instead of joe’s.

“i‘m fuckin’ tired” freddy said, after looking at his watch for the past ten minutes. he added in a wince and rubbed his forehead for dramatic affect. a yawn would have been too much.

“fuckin’ lightweight” pink snickered.

“shit, is it a school night or somethin’? you just fuckin’ got here!” eddie jabbed, disappointed.

“give the guy a break, he’s got a fuckin’ kid at home screamin’ all night” larry said, clapping freddy on the shoulder and waving the other guys off. “you want a ride? i might call it a night too”

freddy recovered from the unexpected addition to his backstory quickly and drawled “if you’re alright to, yeah... cabs to out here are fuckin’ expensive, so...”

“what, you gonna tuck him in, mr. white?” blonde said through a grin.

“i’m droppin’ him off on the fuckin’ corner, his wife can take care of him after that” and the table rumbled with laughter and a few dirty comments. 

“you’re all just jealous of me an’ my domestic bliss” freddy sneered. then, a little quieter, “shall we go?”

“sure, let’s dip” and larry nudged him, “after you finish your drink”

freddy said nothing, just took the last gulp of his watered down whiskey, ice clacking against his teeth. he winced and stood, larry following suit and leading the way out, bidding goodbye to the table. freddy walked a step behind, hands in pockets and sneering back names at the complaining men as they walked to the door.

out into the cool night, though it was hardly night yet, and freddy gulped down mouthfuls of cold air as he remained a few steps behind larry, who was pulling his keys out his pocket.

before he had a chance to open his car, freddy took a quick look around the street and grabbed him by the wrist, twisting him and backing larry against his own car.

“what was with the baby?”

larry shrugged, poorly concealed smirk playing at his lips. “just wanted to make sure you can keep up. and it helps with the cover” and he pulled his arm out freddy’s grip and turned, climbing into the drivers seat.

*i can fuckin’ keep up* freddy thought to himself as he walked round the front of the car, knowing he was watched as he walked.

the longest drive of freddy’s fucking life followed, radio spinning out the same r&b song freddy had heard just a few days earlier. larry’s hand moved to switch it after a minute, but freddy pulled it back. “nah, i like this one” and he put larry’s hand on his thigh.

“that’s smooth” larry laughed, not taking his eyes off the road but moving his hand up his leg half an inch.

a few bad jokes crossed freddy’s mind, but he decided to keep quiet and put his hand over larry’s.

the walk across the street and the two flights of stairs were done in silence, but freddy could hear his heart thumping in his chest, violently smashing against his ribs like it wanted to jump out and run away. he wondered where it would go, whether it would go back to the cover apartment or his own one a few streets away from here. maybe it would go back to his mom’s house and hide under the bed like he had done every time she bought her boyfriend over. he was a cop too and he would yell at the tv when he watched the football and he would eat the snacks freddy and his sister were supposed to eat after school. one time, because he had eaten all their chips the night before, the two of them tried to make grilled cheese but they set the smoke alarm off and they ran crying to the neighbours.

“hey. you okay?” larry said, and freddy realised the door was being held open and they were both standing right in the threshold.

“yeah”

“if you don’t want, we can-“

“come on” and freddy pushed the two of them inside, closing the door and backing larry against it. he planted his hands on the door either side of larry’s head, keeping him right there in front of him. larry leaned back against the wood and smiled, planting his feet.

“you got a bad habit, trappin’ me like this” larry smiled, face only a few inches from freddy’s.

“yeah. gotta make sure you don’t run away”

“kid, you’re the fuckin’ flight risk here, not me”

“yeah, i guess” freddy chuckled. “that’s kinda the problem though.. you’re always _there_ ”

“always there?”

“like every time i look over my shoulder, you’re right there. ‘m gonna have a fuckin’ heart attack, keep surprisin’ me”

larry nodded. “that why you been so nervous? ‘cause we keep surprisin’ each other?”

“yeah, just... i see you and... i forget whatever i was thinkin’ an’ i don’t know where i am an’ i can’t stop starin’ at you an’ i feel like i left my oven on or somethin’ ‘cause i’m so...” freddy rambled, watching larry’s smile widen.

he threw his head back against the door and laughed softly. “i’m sorry, kid, it’s not my fault, it’s the universe... playin’ a cruel joke or somethin’... i surprised you tonight, you okay with that?”

“you didn’t surprise me, i was about to ask you over to mine when you did” freddy mumbled.

“for real?”

“yeah man, like i sorted my room, towel by the bed, everythin’. didn’t have any candles or, like, rose petals and a barry white record though”

larry snorted. “shit, freddy, i don’t have any of that here... i dunno if any florists are open this late”

freddy hummed, faux-concerned. “shit, i don’t think this is gonna work then. i got standards, ya know?” he joked.

“yeah, i could tell you did when we fucked in that hotel with mouldy carpets” larry nodded, face twisting as he tried not to smile, though his dimples still beamed.

freddy laughed, head ducking and narrowly missing hitting larry on the nose. he surfaced, chewing his lip as he considered what next. larry raised his eyebrows expectantly, waiting for freddy.

*come on. i got you against your own door, it’s your turn now*

but larry was obviously enjoying him running the show, and defiantly settled back against the door, head tilted back. freddy drummed his fingers against the wood as he looked over larry’s exposed neck, willing himself to do something.

he had been waiting for this for so long, but now he had him right where he wanted and he didn’t know what to do with him. 

“you okay?”

“mh hm” freddy hummed, fingers still tapping the wood as his eyes were fixed on a dip in larry’s neck.

“you don’t feel like you left your oven on?”

“no” freddy smiled. “the oven at my place doesn’t even work”

“but you feel okay?” and one of larry’s hands lightly settled on freddy’s hip.

“very okay” and he dragged his eyes away from larry’s neck to his face, where he was cooly watching him back, lips slightly parted and pupils blown. freddy shuffled his feet, inching closer slightly and then-

larry’s phone rang.

“jesus christ” larry whispered with his eyes squeezed shut, then pushed out of freddy’s arms to get to the phone.

freddy didn’t even hear what larry said, was too shell shocked and stood there with his mouth gaping until larry sighed and hung up. he came back over and leant against the door, then took hold of freddy’s wrists to plant his hands next to his head again. 

“eddie” he said to freddy’s questioning look. “just checkin’ we both got home alright. i told him not to call you”

“right”

“you okay?”

“i just didn’t wanna be reminded of anyone else in the world right now. i kinda forgot it wasn’t just us” freddy said, feeling larry’s hand on his hip again. he stared at what of the floor was visible in the spaces between their feet.

“it can be. i can unplug my phone... also i don’t have any neighbours against the walls, just across the hall and downstairs. it can be just us” and his fingers slipped under his shirt, ghosting against his skin. 

“yeah?” freddy said, grinning at lack of subtlety. “fuckin’ phones, man” he said, shaking his head. his hair brushed against larry’s face when he did.

then larry’s hand was on his jaw, guiding him to look up at him, faces closer than before the phone went. “i’ll unplug it... lock the door... i can go get candles if you want, whatever you want” larry smiled.

“i don’t want any of that” and freddy closed the gap between them, kissing larry gently. last time he had tasted of whiskey, but now he just tasted like a mouth, any evidence of their time at the bar gone, including the buzz freddy had going. he was stone sober now, and thankful for it.

“what _do_ you want?” larry said against his lips, fingers stroking against freddy’s hip.

“i wanna take you to your bedroom... but i dunno which one it is”

“down the hall, though the door on the left”

“okay” and freddy pulled back slightly, taking a second to look over larry’s face. he looked, or rather, felt, anxious, shoulders tense and brows ever so slightly drawn. freddy could feel it radiating off him from the few inches between them. “you okay with this?”

“i’m fine. just wanna be good for you”

*fuck*

freddy swallowed, licked his lips. larry’s eyes tracked the action. “you haven’t disappointed so far. i wouldn’t worry about it”

larry smiled, eyes crinkling like freddy needed anymore reason to look at them. they always looked so warm.

freddy pulled his hands off the door and guided larry by the shoulders across the room and down the fall, finding the bedroom door already open. he closed it behind them once they were inside and when he turned around, larry had already made the journey to the bed and was sitting on the edge facing freddy.

“come ‘ere” and freddy went over like it was the most natural move he could do, like he had rehearsed it until he tired of it like the stupid commode story, and his hands were on larry’s shoulders and larry’s hand were on his hips, and he ducked his head to kiss him like it was perfectly choreographed. static was roaring in his ears, all his nervous instincts telling him to pull back. he knew better though, he was finally in control.

“you want me to fuck you?” larry asked between kisses, more eager than the ones at the door.

“mm” freddy hummed, bringing a knee up onto the bed, leaning over and pushing his hips closer.

*please please please*

larry didn’t respond, just kissed back harder, tongue licking the edges of his mouth and letting his hands wander. one at the top of freddy’s thigh, right under his ass, and one up the back of his shirt, reaching up to plant a steadying force between his shoulder blades.

except it wasn’t all that steadying because freddy was only half on the bed and the mattress was springy and he gonna keel over sideways if he moved again so he nodded to the pillows and muttered “can you lie down?”

larry obliged and then freddy could climb back on, so he did, hips on hips through layers of denim and cotton and sweat, and larry sat up to kiss him but flattened back out when freddy leaned over again and fuck- it felt good to have someone patiently let him decide, just trusting every move freddy made, all while looking up at him with an awestruck expression.

when they kissed again, with no risk of either of them falling, they were more careful. freddy kept an elbow braced on the pillow with his other hand on larry’s chest, feeling his breath, his heartbeat and his muscle under his still palm. he could barely keep track of what larry’s hands were doing, he just felt them slowly moving over his back and hips and ass and legs, drinking in whatever they could reach. christ, he was getting hard already.

freddy’s whole body was thrumming, pulse beating against every square inch of his skin like a beat on a drum. when larry slid his hand back up under his shirt to stroke his back, freddy could feel it even stronger, like something was trapped inside his body and trying to push out into larry’s touch. 

“can i take this off?” larry said softly against his lips, and freddy didn’t give him the chance, pulling the shirt off his head and rolling off him to take off everything else, larry sitting up to do the same as freddy wrestled with his boots.

both of them suddenly frantic, they undressed, both wincing when larry kicked off one of his shoes and it hit the dresser and knocked over whatever was on top. freddy was aware that he was probably pretty heavy when he climbed back onto larry’s bare hips, and may have been crushing some sensitive areas when he shifted to press their cocks together, but larry made no complaints. on the contrary, he leant up on one elbow and reached for the back of freddy’s neck, pulling him down for a kiss that pushed them together harder, skin humid with sweat and scratchy hair making it the perfect amount of uncomfortable.

“you gotta tell me what you want, freddy” larry said, pulling back a fraction to speak.

“you can’t guess?” and freddy make a purposefully dragging roll of his hips to illustrate.

“you want it like this?”

“please” 

“yeah” larry breathed, closing the kiss again and moving his hands down to his hips. “you gotta take that ring off first”

”oh shit, sorry” freddy fumbled, for some reason feeling extremely embarrassed at forgetting he had it on. he pulled it off and blindly reached out to put it on the nightstand without tearing his mouth off larry’s.

”much better”

”yeah”

they separated for a moment while larry got lube out of his nightstand and freddy fumbled around on the floor to get his wallet out of his jeans pocket. it felt strange to be kneeling on the floor butt-naked, cock bobbing in someone else’s apartment, and it was barely even dark yet, but his embarrassment was squashed once he found the condom and climbed back onto the bed, knees bracketing larry’s thighs. he hastily handed it to larry, sitting back on his ankles while larry rolled it on and spread some lube over the condom.

freddy could feel larry’s eyes all over him, hungrily taking him in while he laid back, fists clenching with self restraint. there’s no way freddy could have looked back at him with that look on his face, so he watched the headboard as he reached down and guided larry’s dick to his hole, squeezing his lips together when he felt wet latex prod at him.

when they first fucked, freddy hadn’t been concentrating on much other than the two hard cocks present and the slight worry that someone might be in the room next door. he hadn’t been focused on feeling every burning hot inch slide in for the first time, or the way larry’s stomach muscles moved as he took him in. he was now though, until he bottomed out with his thighs straining to move, or to keep still, or something, but definitely struggling.

“fuck”

“fuck” they breathed at the same time. they both laughed breathily, the movement making the hard pillar inside freddy shift, and he laughed again.

he widened his knees a little and leaned forward, grabbing one of larry’s shoulders and one of his hips. hard, tensing muscle in one hand and soft, giving flesh in the other, freddy squeezed him as he rocked ever so slightly, testing the waters.

larry breathed out his nose, undoing his fists where he had been digging his fingernails into his palms and rubbed up and down freddy’s thighs before he took his hips again. 

even with being so perfectly full, with a pulse almost in-sync with his own beating inside him, it wasn’t quite comfortable yet. he squeezed, then relaxed, trying to get used to the presence and wait for the pain to dissolve. larry involuntarily jerked his hands, his own hips shifting a tiny amount in response. his already dark eyes were blown black, lips parted with anticipation, and he stared transfixed at freddy’s face when he rocked again, harder this time.

then he did it again, then again, pulling up and dropping down an inch. then more. then again, and faster. then it felt pretty good, so he kept doing that.

larry flexed his pelvis up to meet his each time, fingers digging into his hips. it hurt, but freddy was hardly paying attention to that. larry came first, and his hips bucked up with that animalistic need to bury inside, met by freddy pushing down in return.

freddy held his breath when he felt his own approach, and for a second or two, when he felt his oxygen-starved brain screaming, he had a few fragmented thoughts about what they’d put on the paperwork for the case if he died right there. he didn’t have to worry for much longer because larry put a hand round him and all it took was five tight strokes and he was done. 

he came like he was falling from the jaws of some great beast that had been chewing on him but decided to show him some mercy.

amazingly, he was still upright when he opened his eyes. it was the height of summer and he felt it right there at that moment, barely dark out and sweating and whole body hot and burning. there was still a very warm hand around his softening dick, sensitive but numb at the same time. 

“you okay?” 

freddy laughed. “yeah, you?”

“i’m pretty good”. larry’s hair was messed up and his face was red and smiling so, so wide. freddy was still too spaced out to care that he was staring. one of his legs was aching so he tried to move it, but then all the limpness hit him at once, and the arm he was supporting his weight on buckled so he near folded on top of larry.

hands moved from his hip and dick to wrap around him and ease him onto his side, larry’s cock pulling out of him in the process and *fuck, it left an impression*.

larry sat at the edge of the bed to tie of the condom and put it in the trash, and he went to lie back down but faltered, turning to freddy and saying: “you wanna get somethin’ to eat?”

*jesus christ, please*

“yes. real bad” freddy said, and he thought his voice would sound weird but it came out normal.

“alright, wait there” and larry picked his underwear off the floor and went to the bathroom. he came back wearing them a few moments later and holding a roll of toilet paper. freddy gratefully took it off him and wiped at his stomach, his dick, between his legs, and at the bead of sweat he could feel running cold down his back. 

larry threw freddy’s clothes onto the bed as he searched around the floor, and they both got changed breathlessly.

“come on, i’m starvin’” larry grumbled as he pulled on his shoe.

“betcha i’m worse” and larry smiled, patted his jacket pockets then lead freddy out.

it wasn’t until he dropped in the car that freddy realised that he was still fucking panting. he took some deep breaths to try and set him back to normal because he really didn’t want larry to see him like this, still recovering.

larry wasn’t looking though, he was starting the car and turning on the radio. ever the opportunist, freddy grabbed his hand and put it on his thigh again, not quite as high up as before. larry smirked but said nothing and pulled the car into the road.

“anywhere in particular you wanna go?”

“no, you pick, i’ll eat whatever” freddy mumbled and slumped in his seat, legs aching and fucking tired.


	7. seven

it didn’t register where they were until larry had parked across from the familiar late night coffee shop. freddy followed larry in his hands in his pockets, harsh neon lights stinging his eyes as they walked to the booths.

*what the fuck*

freddy’s mind went back to his call with holdaway that morning. he had only been half listening when he had said that they should meet soon, and he remembered saying ‘uh huh, okay’ at some point. 

considering holdaway was sitting in one of the booths, eyes wide and mouth open in shock, freddy might have agreed to meet him here, tonight.

it took every ounce of freddy’s steadily declining self preservation to pull his face into something normal and continue after larry. he faltered at the booth larry stopped at, and slid around him to pick the seat with it’s back to holdaway, but larry was oblivious to his panic and sat down opposite him, commenting on the shitty 70’s music playing. all freddy could do was laugh in agreement and open a menu, ducking his head and hoping with everything he could hope with that holdaway wasn’t staring at larry.

freddy scanned the menu, saw the sandwich he sometimes got and said: “hey, i need the bathroom, if you’re ready to order, can you get me the number 7, please?”

“yeah sure, you want a drink?”

“nah, i dunno” he muttered, already standing up. “just water’s fine”

“okay” and freddy slide out the booth, patting larry’s shoulder as he walked past. maybe it was for larry’s benefit so he didn’t worry, or for holdaway’s so he didn’t think larry had taken him hostage, or maybe it was for his own, just to quickly touch what he could for reassurance.

*holy fucking jesus, my fuckin’ luck*

the bathroom was thankfully cold, aggressive air conditioning humming above the tiny window. he pissed, then when he went to wash his hands he accidentally caught his own eye in the mirror and *fuck, that was a mistake*

objectively speaking, he didn’t look like someone who had very obviously just fucked himself on the dick of the guy he was eating with. his hair looked a little mussed and his cheeks were a little pink, but that could just be from the heat. he wondered if he walked in funny, if holdaway would be able to tell that his thighs ached and his ass felt raw just from that. he was overthinking again, but he couldn’t stop staring at his reflection, scanning it for mistakes. he hoped the cold water would help but it did nothing. when he went to dry his hands, he heard the door open and he spun around.

*no no no no no*

“what the fuck are you doin’, freddy?” holdaway hissed, striding towards him. “i’ve been sittin’ out there like an asshole waiting for you, i called you, and now you’re here with him?!”

“jesus fuck, keep it down, would you” freddy whispered back, as if larry had his ear pressed against the door outside. 

*fuck. think quick*

“he just called and asked if i wanted to meet to talk about the plan. i figured doin’ that would be more useful than talkin’ to you because he’s gonna know more than we do, so i went with him. i didn’t have time to call, he was nearby”

“shit, freddy, i was gonna send someone over there to check on you!”

“i’m fine, i’m fine, we’re just eating and talkin’. he just surprised me an’ i had to think on my feet”

holdaway put his head in his hands, and freddy could tell that even though he was angry, he knew freddy was talking sense. “okay. get the fuck out there an’ i’ll leave in a few minutes. call me when you get home”

*wait*

“w- well, he said we might get a drink or somethin’ after, so i dunno when i’ll be home, so i can’t call tonight”

holdaway sighed and nodded. “okay. shit, freddy. he better be tellin’ you the details of his fuckin’ address book or somethin’, ‘cause this is fucked up”

“i know, i know, just let me get back out there”

“okay, go”

freddy didn’t dry his hands, just wiped them on his jeans and pushed past, aware that he had been in there too long.

he met larry’s eyes across the room as soon as he got out the door, and he gave him a stiff smile in response as he weaved through the tables to get back to him. there was a jug of water and glasses full of ice on the table, and freddy started pouring it before he was fully seated.

“‘s fuckin’ hot in here” he mumbled, taking a long gulp and wincing as the ice hit his teeth.

larry hummed in agreement and took a sip of his own water. “you okay?”

“yeah, i’m just- yeah, i’m fine” 

larry was still watching him and *fuck, man*, he really didn’t want to get a reputation of having panic attacks whenever he was around him, so he leaned across the table and whispered: “i’m just fuckin’ hot, and hungry, and my legs are killin’ me right now”

larry snorted and took his cigarettes out his jacket pocket, lighting one, then sticking it between freddy’s lips. “food’s on it’s way, and you can take off your jacket if you’re hot. i dunno what i can do about your legs though”

freddy faltered, caught between the knowledge that holdaway could have come out of the bathroom, and the fact that larry was looking at him like he was exercising a lot of self restraint. there was an open invitation to test it.

he shrugged off his jacket like it was nothing, and maybe it was nothing because taking off your jacket is what you do when it’s leather and you’re hot. still, goosebumps rippled over his forearms and he busied himself with folding it up next to him to avoid larry’s eye. 

when he eventually did look up, larry was looking over him with a self satisfied smile pressed into his face. freddy reluctantly smiled too, shaking his head like he was disappointed in himself then crossed his arms over his chest, moving only to smoke.

they sat in silence for a few minutes. it wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was heavy. larry was diligently trying to do something with the paper napkin, and it took freddy a few moments to realise he was trying to fold it into a swan. he smiled when larry balled up his first attempt and took another napkin from the holder between them, and his second attempt started out a lot better.

freddy saw, barely turning his head to watch, as holdaway walked past them to leave. he had the common sense not to turn back and look at them. with that weight lifted, freddy adjusted his feet a little so his ankle was pressed against one of larry’s. larry responded by flicking his eyes up from his napkin for a second, tiniest smirk at his lips then looking back down, running his thumbnail over a fold to make it crisp.

freddy jumped when the bored teenage server came over with their food, mumbling the order numbers as he set them down between the two of them. larry dropped his finished swan to clear space and move the plates, then placed the napkin in front of freddy.

“where the fuck did you learn this then?”. it wasn’t like one of the fancy ones they did with cloth napkins in restaurants, it was closer to one of those japanese crane things but with no wings.

“girl i knew used to be a waitress an’ she taught me”

“huh” freddy said, admiring it for a second longer then setting it down on the table. he stubbed out his cigarette and picked up his sandwich, registering how hungry he was the second it hit his tongue. “this your version of gettin’ me flowers or somethin’? ‘cause i’m swooning” he said with his mouth full.

“oh yeah? gonna take me home to meet your momma?” larry grinned, taking a bite of his burger.

“not a fuckin’ chance” and he kicked him under the table. “she’d flirt with you”

“that sounds fun, when can i come over?” larry chuckled, and he got kicked again.

“when you’re worthy of her. she deserves better than the likes of you” freddy teased.

“but you don’t?”

“don’t what?”

“don’t deserve better than me”

“nah” and freddy wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “i deserve worse. far worse”

“good luck finding someone worse than me”

“i know where to look”

larry smiled and picked up the fries on his plate and dropped them onto freddy’s. he leaned across the table, hands clasped in front of him and said low: “if you think i’m bad, you dunno the fuckin’ half of it yet”

freddy gulped, because he did fucking know, and he still felt like the scummy one here. his stomach twisted at the look on larry’s face, because he looked like he wanted freddy to be impressed or intrigued. 

“i don’t wanna fuckin’ know about your mess” and he shoved some fries into his mouth. “you don’t wanna know mine”

“i don’t?”

*you definitely fuckin’ don’t*

“you definitely fuckin’ don’t” and freddy picked up the napkin balled up from larry’s first attempt at the swan and threw it in his face. 

larry swatted it away and kicked him back in return, then letting his legs tangle with freddy’s under the table when they both went back to eating, smirking and avoiding each other’s eye.

freddy finished his food, and some of larry’s, quickly, and gently admired the swan napkin as larry finished. this was too easy. it shouldn’t be like this. he should be writhing with guilt, flinching away from larry’s touch. they’d both set traps for each other and they’d both got caught spectacularly.

a finger on the back of his hand drew him from his thoughts and he looked up. larry traced a vein on the back of his hand, from between his knuckles to down his wrist.

“uh, we’re closing in 10 minutes” a bored voice said, and they both drew their hands away from each other like they had been burned. the teenager that had brought their food over was picking up empty plates with hair hanging in his bloodshot eyes, so he probably didn’t see or even care about what their hands were doing.

larry cleared his throat. “sure. can we get the check, please”

the teenager slouched away with their plates and freddy went for his wallet.

“hey, it’s alright, i got it”

“you’re babying me” freddy warned, half serious. he also half liked it, but had to maintain some decency and at least pay for his own sandwich.

larry held up his hands in mock surrender. “just thought i’d try an’ prove i’m actually a nice guy”

“‘t’s gonna more than that” freddy smiled, fiddling with the bills in his wallet. 

larry laughed. “how much more?”

freddy paused a beat then murmured: “i can only tell you in inches”

he didn’t look up from where he was scratching at the leather of his wallet so he didn’t see larry’s face. the shocked laugh he heard was a good sign; as was the whispered “you’re killin’ me here”, the sound of which went straight to his dick.

*down boy*

larry chuckled again and went for his own wallet as the server came back over, putting the slip of paper on the table then sulking over to start clearing another table. after they had sorted out what they were paying, larry leaned over all serious again.

“so what do you wanna do now? for real”

freddy chewed his lip a second. the list of things he wanted right now was long; and the list of things he might want tomorrow was also long and sitting between larry’s legs.

there was still the presence of holdaway in the back of his mind, leering over his shoulder like he was still a few booths behind him.

“what are my options?”

“they’re your fuckin’ options, whatever you want” larry said. “i’m cool with whatever you pick”

freddy licked his lips, feeling like he was about to get tripped up and pick the wrong answer. “can i sleep at yours?”

hey, maybe he didn’t pick the wrong answer, because larry smiled wide, his eyes crinkling. “i’m cool with that”

“yeah?”

“yeah. shall we go?”

“uh huh” and they both got up, leaving behind a tip that the kid didn’t deserve but they felt generous. freddy pocketed the napkin swan and followed a few steps behind to the car. it was dark out now. larry put his hand on freddy’s thigh unprompted this time.

larry held the front door open for him again when they got back to his and freddy smiled gratefully as he entered, suddenly feeling awkward as he realised he had invited himself back to someone’s apartment to sleep there. he was going to be in the way when larry brushed his teeth or undressed or tried to roll over in the middle of the night. he was going to have to use his shower and eat his food and hog his space and he probably smelt awful to sleep next to and he was going to have to call holdaway at some point and-

“hey? you want a drink? something else to eat?” larry asked, touching freddy on the arm. he was standing right in front of him, toes almost touching.

“uh. no. i’m fine, thank you. don’t let me stop you if you wanna...”

“nah, i’m fine, just checking on ya... you look tired”

he was, he was fucking tired. he’d been drinking and then he had sex and then he had some good food and it was cooler now, not as offensively hot as it was earlier, but he was scared if he went to sleep he’d be wasting precious seconds.

“i’m... yeah”

“yeah me too. you can use the bathroom first, just let me clear up out here and we can go to sleep”

peering over larry’s shoulder, he could see that the apartment was spotless to the point of looking bare, there was nothing to clear up. he appreciated the gesture though.

“alright” but freddy didn’t move. standing this close to larry now, he realised that they weren’t so different in size. they were the same height, feet looking about the same in their shoes. larry’s shoulders and chest were a little wider but he was hardly dwarfing freddy. they were both pretty regular sized guys. built differently but less noticeably when they were this near each other. it made him a little less nervous for some reason.

“hm?” larry prompted, smiling a little and ducking his head to meet freddy’s eye.

“nothin’. i’ll go an’-” but before he could turn, larry put his hand on the space between his shoulder and his neck. freddy froze as he felt his thumb sweep back and forth.

“thanks for comin’ over. i’ll get you that breakfast i owe you tomorrow”

“the... oh, yeah. thanks, that’d be nice”

larry smiled and freddy did too, then he finally turned and walked down the hall to the bathroom.

he splashed water on his face, tried to wash away sweat from his pits and his neck, and brushed his teeth with his finger, which did fuck all but poke toothpaste to the back of his mouth. he pulled off his shoes and socks, folded his jacket and took off his jeans, taking care to keep the napkin swan flat in the pocket. he padded out the bathroom barefoot, holding his clothes to the bedroom, where larry was already sitting shirtless in bed. 

freddy put his clothes into a stack on the floor, making more effort to be tidy than he had ever done at his apartment. larry’s eyes are on him, he can feel them raking over him. then, he saw what larry knocked off the dresser with his shoe earlier. it was a bottle of cologne, some brand that he doesn’t recognise in a plastic bottle pretending to be glass. trying hard not to be visibly self conscious, he bent and picked it up, turning it over in his hands then taking off the cap to smell it. 

“smells of you”

“pretty sure _i_ smell of it” larry said from the bed, arms folded and leaning against the headboard. enjoying the show, even though all he’s doing is snooping through his possessions.

“i guess” and freddy put the bottle back on the dresser next to some hair pomade and a stick of deodorant. just for the sake of it, and because he’s a little nervous of getting into the bed, he read the labels and smelled both of these too.

“this is real nice” he said, gesturing with the hair pomade. it’s some generic brand that feels faintly familiar. he probably bumps into someone wearing it in the station break room once a week.

“yeah. i’ll comb your hair back for you with it”

“you wish... feels weird if i don’t have my hair in my eyes”

larry laughed. “nothin’ good to see?” he teased, as if he wasn’t tensing his muscles. or maybe he wasn’t and he just looks like that.

freddy smiled, looking down at the hair pomade and shaking his head. “nope”

he looked around the room, taking advantage of larry willingness to let him snoop around. not as a cop, just as a nosey son-of-a-bitch. he padded a few feet across the carpet to a photo on the wall above a chair, but upon a quick glance he noticed that a tshirt- his tshirt- was folded up neatly on it.

“hey, i forgot you had this” he remarked, picking it up.

“yeah, been sitting there a while. kept forgettin’ to give it to ya”

“yeah, same with this” freddy mumbled, plucking at larry’s tshirt on his chest. that wasn’t strictly true, he remembered that he needed to give it to him every time he thought about him. 

he put the shirt down and looked back at the photo, a black and white picture of a young blonde woman. freddy pointed and opened his mouth to ask who it was, but instead, he heard: “come ‘ere” and looked up to larry nodding at the space next to him. maybe he was getting impatient and wanted to go to bed, or maybe freddy was overstepping and about to ask a question larry didn’t want to answer.

he dropped his hand and obediently came round the bed, pulling back the covers and pausing.

last time, at the hotel, he had collapsed asleep after getting his dick sucked and fucking twice. he slept for a few hours before he woke up at 5am, collected his clothes and exchanged whispered goodbyes with larry, giving him some money for the room before walking home.

it’s familiar territory if they’ve just had sex, or if they’re about to. now they’re just going to sleep.

“go to sleep freddy”

“okay” and he slipped into the cool sheets.


	8. eight

when he woke up, he had his face pressed into larry’s bicep. there was a noise, an offensive, loud noise, and larry shifted away from freddy and the noise stopped. freddy was still bleary eyed and confused when larry moved back.

“forgot to turn off my fuckin’ alarm, i’m sorry”

“oh” freddy mumbled with his face now pressed into the pillow. “you want me to leave?”

“no, no, it’s alright. go back to sleep, it’s too fuckin’ early. unless you want breakfast?”

“uh...”

“you’re tired, go back to sleep” and larry shifted the two of them until they were on their sides with freddy pulled close to larry’s chest. freddy tensed up when larry slid his hand up the back of his shirt to rest between his shoulder blades. he retracted slightly. “this okay?”

“yeah. ‘t’s nice”

“okay. go to sleep” and the hand settled back.

freddy did his best to go back to sleep, but his mind was wide awake now and even after he relaxed under larry’s touch he was painfully aware of his body. he was having too many thoughts at once and was trying to piece everything together and figure out what was going to happen next and he didn’t like the fact that he was enjoying this so much and-

“can’t sleep?” larry whispered into the top of his head after a while.

“what gave it away?” freddy croaked into his chest.

“you’re breathin’ too fast. what are you thinkin’ about?”

“fuck, i dunno” and he paused. “just thinkin’ this is nice an’ i shoulda done this earlier”

“whatdya mean?”

freddy shifted his face a little, brushing his nose against larry’s skin. he licked his lips.

“honestly?”

“honestly”

“i mean like... i shoulda kissed you in your car. that day i found out your name an’ you were touchin’ my face through the window... or when i actually _did_ kiss you in your kitchen. i shoulda stayed that time. i wanted to. wanted to blow you right there at the counter”

larry snorted with laughter and freddy felt the vibrations of it through his chest. “yeah?”

“yeah. an’ that night i shoulda just gone round your place instead of goin’ to the bar... or shoulda just unhooked my phone when you stayed over... _and_ , when i accidentally called you the other day, i should have asked you over. or like... started jerkin’ off or somethin’”

larry laughed for real at that, his whole body shaking around freddy. freddy’s heart was racing slightly, the familiar feeling of his pulse beating against his skin where larry was touching him, which was pretty much everywhere.

“and why didn’t you?”

“why didn’t i start jackin’ it in the middle of our conversation?... well, i didn’t know you were into that, for a start”

“you know that’s not what i fuckin’ meant” he growled, and within a second he was rolling them so freddy was flat on his back staring up at larry. he was smiling wide with his dimples on full display, but freddy could only see for a second before larry ducked and kissed his temple. “why didn’t you?”

“i dunno” freddy croaked, which was a fucking lie. he had been scared. scared that larry would figure something out, and scared of the guilt he knew would follow if he did anything. except now he was lying underneath him after fucking him and spending the night and using his toothpaste and try as he might, he didn’t feel an ounce of guilt. he just felt warm skin and hair and sheets, and he turned his head to try and meet larry’s lips, but he pulled back an inch.

“i would have been into it, for the record” larry whispered.

“yeah? okay... next time i call you, i know what to do then” and he raised his hips to meet larry’s.

“what would i do to help?” larry said, putting his lips back to freddy’s temple.

“ideally you’d hang up the phone and come over to give me a hand”

that was all larry needed for instruction, and he kicked the covers off and gently grabbed freddy through his underwear.

“yeah” freddy whispered, as if it was a question and the way his dick twitched and his hips bucked wasn’t an answer.

when he finally got his hands on him, he’d only tease him with his thumb and index finger. freddy half wanted to tell him to hurry the fuck up, but half wanted to see how wound up it would get him.

it turns out a lot. it wasn’t until he was squirming on his back, tshirt around his armpits and larry’s lips on his neck that he spluttered “come on, man” and reached down to wrap larry’s whole hand around him. larry smiled against his neck and was wringing his orgasm out of him only a few seconds later, so hard that freddy forgot to keep his mouth shut and he made a grunting snarl that he’d never fucking heard himself make before in his life.

larry wiped them both off with the toilet paper from last night, pulled freddy’s boxers up and rearranged the covers all while freddy was still stoned and panting. 

“go to sleep, we’ll get breakfast at 10, okay?” larry muttered as he rearranged them both to their previous position, pulling freddy against his chest and snaking his hand, still slightly sticky, up the back of his shirt again.

“okay” and he didn’t have any trouble getting back to sleep this time.

// 

“what do you mean, you don’t know who bruce lee is?”

“i mean i don’t know who you’re fuckin’ talkin’ about”

“he did martial arts movies in the 70’s. enter the dragon?”

“no idea”

they were interrupted by a loud clattering noise from the kitchen when some dish washer dropped something. the cafe was busy now, as it was approaching noon. 

freddy waved around his fork as he tried to think of how to describe it. larry had finished his food a while ago and freddy was trying his hardest to stall. the food on his fork had gone cold.

“it’s good. like, instead of using cops or something to investigate this crime lord, they send this fuckin’ martial arts instructor to get evidence”

“and does he?”

“i can’t spoil it for you”

larry laughed, his arms folded as he leaned back in his chair. “i’m never gonna fuckin’ watch it, you can tell me”

“you might watch it. you _should_ watch it” and freddy picked more food onto his fork before saying: “i mean it’s bruce lee though, he’s not gonna fail the mission”

“does he kill him?”

“can’t tell you”

“so he does?”

freddy smiled. “you’re only ruining it for yourself”

“how does he kill him? karate chop to the head?”

“i’m not telling you”

“no guns, right?”

“no, no guns. that’s not interesting to watch, is it? anyone can shoot a fuckin’ gun”

“you don’t like shootout scenes? they’re the best”

“they’re cool, yeah, but... everyone and their grandma has a gun, at least over here. guys doin’ backflips and punching shit is more fun... besides, i don’t like blood”

larry laughed. “you don’t like blood?”

“nah, scares the shit out of me”

“there’s never that much blood in real life though, they cover ‘em in gallons of it in the movies”

freddy faltered, fork pausing midair.

*and you’d know?*

he didn’t say anything, just nodded and ate the cold waffles off his fork.

“so how does he kill him then? he can’t seriously kill him with kung fu or whatever”

freddy swallowed the gluey dough. “nah, there’s a... shit, i don’t remember what it was exactly, some spike on pole right through his chest”

larry did an exaggerated wince. freddy smiled and ate another forkful, syrup dripping down his hand even after he had been careful. he wiped it with his napkin, trying to recover and think of something to say to fill the silence. okay, not silence, because the place was full and the kitchen was loud, but as soon as larry had finished his food he had been talking nonstop, trying to avoid the reality of the situation and distract larry with the smoke and mirrors of movies and complaining about shitty coffee.

he had fucked up now. he had paused, allowed a dip in the conversation and given larry a chance to say something like-

“what dya wanna do after this?”. serious, almost business-like if it hadn’t been slightly softened by larry leaning over the table.

*shit*

he swallowed his mouthful, having to force it down. he watched the people in the kitchen moving around behind larry’s head. 

“fuck, i dunno. ‘t’s not fair, you asked me that last night, it’s your turn”

larry’s mouth curled into a reluctant smile, wanting a straight answer from freddy but still being amused by his bullshit answer.

“i can’t decide what you want”

freddy privately wished that he could, because he couldn’t quite do it himself. 

“you could try”

larry shook his head, wiping his hands on his napkin. freddy had asked him to show him how to make those swans, but the napkins here were rectangular, not square.

“alright, just answer me straight- do you want to go home?”

*oh come on, the first fucking question needs to be easy*

“i dunno”. he thought of his phone shrieking. he thought of that room with the ladder that fell over every time he closed the front door too hard. he thought of that fucking manila folder. “no, no i don’t”

“okay... so you wanna hang out with me?”

“yeah”

“doing what?”

“fuck, i dunno. you can’t decide?”

“i dunno either! i dunno what... people do together on a sunday afternoon”

for some reason, that twisted something in freddy’s chest, something sad but something slightly endeared.

“me neither, man. i dunno what people do together, period”

“alright, what do you do on your own?”

“you already sorta helped me with that this morning though” and larry kicked him under the table.

“you’re filthy. what do you _do_?”

“i watch tv”

“okay. you wanna watch tv... together on a sunday afternoon?”

“sure” and maybe he should have been listening to the voice telling him that he hadn’t called holdaway, that he hadn’t called frankie, that he hadn’t finished filling out his expenses yet. the voice asking the waitress for the check and playfully telling him to finish his food was a lot more coherent, a lot more inviting, so he shovelled the remaining waffle into his mouth and didn’t bother reaching for his wallet because it was larry that offered to pay for this breakfast over a week and a half ago.

//

“why are they showing this in the middle of the day”

“i dunno. reruns. they gotta fill it with something”

“tales from the crypt really isn’t all that effective in the middle of the day”

“you’re not scared?” freddy drawled, walking two fingers up the back of larry’s head.

“you wish” larry said smiling and shrugging him off, then settling back into where he was leaning in the crook of freddy’s elbow on the back of the couch.

they had been like this for hours now, just watching tv and talking. freddy had been trying his hardest to relax, but it was difficult when all he could do was image how larry was eventually going to ask him to leave. 

he could hear it, tick, tick, ticking away; every oblivious, uninterrupted second.

larry said “i’m gonna go check if i have anything to eat, wait here” and drew freddy back to the moment, forcing him to unglaze his eyes.

“okay” he smiled, blinking and focusing back on the screen. larry put his hand on freddy’s knee to stand up.

given the proximity of the kitchen to the couch where they were sitting, the sound of larry opening cupboards and looking through shelves clattered over the sound of the tv.

“there’s this episode where this painter guy makes a tonne of money from painting dead bodies, so he starts killing people for like, artistic inspiration. hope they show that one today” freddy said aloud.

“yeah? sounds awful” larry said from the kitchen.

“they all are”

a commercial with the annoying r&b song he had heard so many times started playing, and freddy zoned out trying his hardest to remember the singer’s fucking name. 

it wasn’t until the next episode had started and was well into the first few minutes that freddy realised that he had been abandoned, and that there was no noise from the kitchen. he turned around to peer in and saw larry chewing his nails, eyes unfocused and staring at a point by the fridge.

“you okay?”

“what? oh, yeah i’m fine, just can’t find any food”

“right” and freddy turned back around. a few seconds later he heard larry walking over, but instead of coming round the couch, he stopped right behind freddy and knelt down.

“i need to ask you something” he said in a low, serious voice behind freddy’s head.

*oh fuck*

“what?” he said, panicking suddenly and turning his head to meet his eye.

“just turn back around, okay” 

freddy gulped, bile rising in his throat and wondering what the fuck he might have said in the last few minutes to give anything away. he turned back to the tv but the sound was blocked out by the blood rushing in his ears.

“i, um, thought of something an’ i wanna know what you think. just don’t want you lookin’ at me when i say it”

“larry what the fuck are you-“ freddy started, voice embarrassingly high.

“hey, don’t worry, just hear me out”

a beat passed and when freddy didn’t interrupt him again, larry continued.

“this is a stupid idea, and i completely understand if you say ‘no’, i know it’s a lot, but there’s less than a week ‘til the job, an’-“

freddy’s stomach dropped at the mention and he felt his hands start to shake and he swallowed so loud that he missed some of what larry was saying.

“what?”

“i know, it was weird, i’m sorry, i-“

“no, like, what did you say? i didn’t hear” freddy said with the calmest voice he could. he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what he must have said to respond like that.

“oh. well, it’s, uh, wishful thinking, but i was wondering that if you wanted to see me after this, and there’s only a few days until the job, you could just stay here until then”

freddy blinked, processing the words.

larry started talking again, nervous and apologetic. “obviously you probably have stuff to do all week, and my place isn’t the nicest, so i get it if you don’t want, but-“

freddy turned around quickly, nearly giving himself whiplash in the process. “say that again”

if larry wanted him to turn back around, he didn’t say it, just cleared his throat and didn’t meet his eye when he said “i’m sayin’ you can stay here. if you want. if you want some peace from your... what was it? rinky dink pot head friends on the phone”

*oh god*

he’d been thinking about his phone, knowing holdaway must have been calling all morning. he had been thinking about the folder and the book of mugshots and the post-it notes and how it was monday tomorrow and he would have to call frankie again.

“people don’t call you?”

“only eddy and joe call me at this place. and i when tell them i’m busy, they know to fuck off”

“right” freddy said sounding hollow. a few beats passed, the air thick. “yeah” he said instinctively.

“yeah?”

“yeah”

“yeah, you wanna stay here until friday?”

“yeah”

“okay” and larry finally smiled. “okay. i can drop you off to get your stuff if you want”

“yeah” freddy said breathily again, and he willed himself to say another word but some part of his brain had turned off for him to make that decision and that part must have included all other words. he shook his head slightly and unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “yeah. that’d be great. i need my... toothbrush i guess”

“yeah. yeah, you can just, um, bring a bag. bring your suit. i had the idea because i don’t have any food and the store i go to is nearer your place than mine so... i can get food while you pack”

“sure”. freddy’s neck hurt from craning around. he swallowed again. “yeah”

*again?*

he tried “cool” after that and nodded.

larry nodded too, with a look on his face like he was ashamed of himself for being glad. he stood up and freddy followed.

//

he thundered up the stairs at his building, feverishly looking for the right key as he went. he got through about three before he put the right one in his door, before finally opening the door.

it shouldn’t have surprised him that it was quiet. it made sense that it was quiet, considering no one had been there since yesterday evening. but still. the silence felt like the air was filled with concrete. 

maybe it was because he had been with larry, so he had gotten used to the noise of someone else breathing and moving and talking. 

he stepped inside gingerly, like there was an alarm he was about to set off. after that it was easier, and he went to his bedroom to search for his long abandoned gym bag. he didn’t know what he needed to pack, so he just started piling in clothes at random, doing a mental count that he would have something to wear for each day but not caring what.

he went to the bathroom, dropping his toothbrush and shaver into the bag, and he was just wondering whether he should bring his own shower gel or not, because larry might get pissed off if he borrows his- when the phone started ringing.

freddy froze where he was standing, bottle of soap in his hand. 

he put it down and walked back out to the living room to see the phone lying on the table, the shriek of it almost ear splitting.

*i’m not dealing with that right now*

he let the phone ring and went back to the bedroom, dropping the sunglasses into the bag then clumsily folding up the suit he had hanging on the back of his door. he tried to pack his gun and dress shoes as carefully as possible, but his hands were shaking again.

he clasped his hands together and squeezed his eyes shut to steady himself, and as if he had prayed for it, the phone shut up. he waited a few moments to see if they would call back, but the new silence washed through the apartment. 

at the desk with the folder and his notes, he got a post-it note and scribbled _“had to dip for a few days, will explain after”_

he could come up with a story later. maybe he could say he had a breakdown and skipped town before the job. then they might send him to the shrink and he could get some pills to numb whatever grief he would no doubt be dealing with. maybe they’d even sign him off, with a doctors note and the promise of some lengthy desk work for when he returns. that’d be nice. they’d definitely never send him undercover again.

or maybe he could say that joe sent him and some of the guys off to do another small job, or to meet the connection that would move the diamonds or something. he could create some great tale about how much joe trusted him and he had to go MIA to do the job and protect his cover. he’d get a promotion for that, if they believed him.

he gave the apartment one final scan. half the shit in here wasn’t even his. the furniture came from the last cover place some other guy had used on some other job, or borrowed from the station. some shit he had brought from his real apartment, like the posters and the cassette player, and all the mess was his. they could never accuse him of not making the place look lived in. but he wouldn’t miss it.

//

freddy and larry climbed the stairs to larry’s place, freddy holding his gym bag and larry holding his groceries. they hadn’t much spoken in the car and freddy was worried he was giving the impression that he regretted agreeing to this.

*i mean. i should, shouldn’t i?*

once inside, larry went to the kitchen to unpack the food. freddy dropped his own bag onto the couch and crowding behind larry as soon as he could, plastering himself all up down his back.

he was suddenly overcome with the realisation that he wasn’t going to have to go back to that apartment, and the phone probably wasn’t going to ring, and he was alone with larry and he was too stupid to feel any guilt or regret, so he should make the most of the fact that he had gone fucking crazy.

“hi” larry laughed, trapped between the counter and freddy’s lips on the back of his neck.

freddy didn’t bother responding, and just wrapped his arms around whatever he could reach and moved to kiss under his ear. the aftershave there stung his nose. it was only when larry turned his head and chased his lips to kiss him back, that freddy loosened his grip slightly and allowed larry to turn around to face him. he pressed him back against the counter and squeezed his eyes shut, grateful that larry got the gist quickly and put his hand in his hair with the other one sliding up and down his back.

“fuckin’ ambushing me in my kitchen again” larry said gruffly into the place just to the left of freddy’s upper lip.

that fucking voice made freddy weak at the knees, and hey, if that wasn’t a good idea.

“yeah, i” and he cleared his throat. “if we’re, like... makin’ up for all the time we lost or somethin’... i still owe you something... something i wanted to do last time i pressed you up against your counter”

larry chuckled. “you don’t owe me shit... you don’t havta do anything for me... don’t worry” he said between kisses, both of them twisting their faces eagerly that he missed freddy’s mouth a few times.

freddy grinned, because as much as he appreciated the sentiment, he could tell larry wasn’t about to turn down what he was offering. “i know what i do and don’t havta do... i know what i wanna do... question is, if you want it too”

“sure” larry whispered, this time against freddy’s chin.

“‘sure’, or ‘yes’?” he teased, hand hovering inches over larry’s hip.

“yes” larry muttered, trying his best to sound controlled. freddy smiled and got on his knees, the linoleum barely cushioning his weight.

freddy had always maintained the belief that anyone that says they enjoy sucking cock is fucking liar. he maintained that now, even with his mouth stretched around one and a single trail of spit running down his chin. it’s satisfying to get someone off, or if you maybe get something back in return. it’s still nothing more than a dick in your mouth.

still. it certainly doesn’t hurt if the dick in your mouth is a nice one. doesn’t hurt at all.

afterwards freddy sat back on his heels, panting and wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. then again further up his arm when his chin was still wet.

“you okay?” larry said, panting too but trying to hide it.

“yeah” freddy nodded. “my knees are killin’ me though”

larry pulled him to his feet and into another bone crushing embrace, and freddy was almost flattered when he kissed him again, given what his mouth tasted of.

“you go rest your precious knees then. i bought ice cream and it’s probably melted now”

“sorry”

“don’t be. i’ll go rest my knees. probably brush my teeth first though”

they stood there for a few moments longer, freddy’s arms pinned to his sides by larry’s thick ones. it was bleeding from late afternoon to evening now, nearly 24 hours. freddy quickly tried to figure out how many hours were left, but while he tried to remember what time they had to leave for breakfast before the job, larry interrupted him.

”you know that isn’t why i asked you to stay, right?” he said, voice slightly muffled from where he was pressing his face into freddy’s shoulder.

“i know” freddy said, but he didn’t really want to address the real reason he was staying.

his excuse was that he was an emotional wreck that was bad at his job. maybe a shrink would tell him it was a lack of a father figure, or smoking pot and drinking too young had fucked up his brain chemistry. having few close friendships outside of work didn’t help. or whatever else it was that caused this weakness.

larry didn’t have a fucking excuse. he got dealt a bad hand and dealt with it like a man, taking out a few other men in the process. a guy like that has no reason to be asking another guy for a week-long sleepover.

larry kissed his shoulder and said, “go brush your teeth. i’m gonna have a drink, you want one?”

“uh huh” 

*i think i’m gonna need a few*


	9. nine

on monday they went to the video store, because larry agreed to watch enter the dragon even after he got the ending spoilt for him. when freddy took it up the counter the clerk recognised him from a few weeks ago, when he had bought night of the living dead. he got dragged into a conversation about it while larry pretended to read a movie magazine and chuckled at freddy’s awkwardness, because he barely fucking remembered what happened in that movie, while the guy seemed to think it was the best horror ever made and kept pressing freddy for his opinion on what movies had been inspired by it. eventually freddy cleared his throat and muttered that he had to get home, then dragged larry out by the elbow after he paid.

they watched it in the couch and larry kept asking stupid questions to make freddy laugh. “this is a serious film, ya know?” he told him, trying to maintain a straight face and elbowing him. after it had finished larry started making pasta, and freddy sat on the counter and stirred it while larry tried to make a sauce out of the four ingredients he had.

it turns out that without the help of alcohol, larry doesn’t sleep well either; though he doesn’t toss and turn as much as freddy does. they ended up finding a late night radio talk show, and they played it very quietly and whispered their impressions of the annoying host to each other. 

“you think he talks like that all the time?”

“definitely. his poor wife”

“god. imagine you’re fucking a guy and he says-“ but larry swatted freddy before he could get to the punchline, and he just laughed at larry’s disgusted face.

“i don’t wanna imagine that, thanks... fucker probably doesn’t have a wife. he’s on the radio at 3am, i doubt he’s got a woman. also he sounds ugly”

freddy laughed again. “that’s mean. he could be really hot, you don’t know”

“if he was good looking, he’d be on tv” larry yawned, shifting where he lay and closing his eyes.

“plenty of good looking people that aren’t on tv” 

“i’m pretty sure they’ve put my mugshot on the local news at some point”

“i was talking about _me_ , asshole”

larry smiled, not opening his eyes. “you’re not on tv ‘cause you’d be a terrible actor”

freddy couldn’t help but grin at the irony of that. “how the hell do you know?”

“you talk with your hands too much. you wouldn’t be able to stop, would you?”

freddy was about to indignantly defend himself, but he realised he already had his hands out in front of him. he tucked his arms under the covers self consciously as larry chuckled.

//

on tuesday they woke up late. like, middle of the afternoon late. larry had to do laundry, and freddy packed his dirty clothes and the bedsheets into his bag and went with him to the laundromat. apparently the washing machines at the apartment building are disgusting and leak, so they had to drive to a place a few blocks away. incidentally, it was the same one freddy had used when the machines in his own building broke down for a week. they sat there reading the gossip magazines and asking each other why they should care about some actress’s divorce.

that night, on the freshly cleaned sheets and towels, larry moved him onto his hands and knees. freddy usually felt weird doing it like this, it felt way too exposed and submissive, but larry was running his hands all over him and whispering things freddy would blush to repeat. he started pushing back against the first finger almost immediately, but larry went slow; almost torturously slow, until freddy was begging for it with his face pressed into the pillow. he _definitely_ felt exposed and submissive when he had to say it out loud, but it’s difficult to feel ashamed when you’re rewarded so well for asking.

afterwards, freddy ran his hands all over him in return, trying to commit it all to memory. from looking at him, you wouldn’t think larry had anything soft or delicate on him, but his skin was thin and fragile on his hipbones and behind his knees. so fragile that he was ticklish, and almost kneed freddy in the face by accident.

“when you’re done examining me...”

“not done yet, i haven’t done your face yet” and larry closed his eyes and flinched while freddy ran his fingers over his nose and lips and eyelashes. “now smile”

“why?” larry grumbled.

“wanna see your dimples”

larry rolled his eyes and flashed a forced smile. “am i just a specimen here?” he said through gritted teeth with his cheeks stretched while freddy stroked with his thumb.

“uh huh. i’m trying to classify you”

“you got any ideas yet?” larry said, dropping the smile and looking up at freddy through those ridiculous eyelashes.

*honestly? no*

“i’d say... maybe a man?”

larry chuckled. “what gave that away?”

freddy smiled and dipped his face into his neck. “that one’s too easy. make me work for it a little”

“now _that’s_ too fuckin’ easy” larry muttered into the top of his head. “i’ll make you work for it next time”

“i had to _beg_ for it tonight”

“and that was hard work?”

“it was very, _very_ hard”

larry laughed. “i can’t stand much more of this, go to sleep”

freddy had another line right on the tip of his tongue but he was fucking exhausted so he held it back and flopped onto his back.

//

on wednesday they did nothing. the inactivity made them restless, so after dinner they drove down to the beach. if freddy had realised how cold it would be this late he would have bought another jacket. they walked mostly in silence, only pointing out crabs in the sand.

“look at that boat” freddy said, stopping and pointing at the large cargo ship on the horizon.

larry walked over to stand behind him. “hm. probably goin’ to mexico”

“must be nice an’ warm there” freddy said, pulling his jacket around him closer. behind him, larry rubbed his hands over his arms to warm him up.

“you ever been?”

“no. you?”

“yeah, a few times. goin’ there after the job actually”

freddy froze, muscles going rigid while larry still tried to warm him. he just hummed in acknowledgment.

“you have a plan?”

he was grateful they were facing the same way so larry couldn’t see his face. “some ideas. no plan though”

“hm” larry hummed. “you should get out of the city for a while though. just to be safe”

“yeah, probably”

“you have anywhere to go?”

“not really”. he thought around, trying to think what he’d do if he was actually getting a cut from a diamond robbery. “i’m gonna give a bunch of the money to my mom. she’s moved back to colorado now. guess i could stay there a while”

“cold there”

“yeah” freddy laughed. he didn’t know, he’d never visited her. he felt bad about it every christmas, because his sister goes out every year, and sometimes over the summer too.

a beat passed, and before he could remind himself that he was a cop and the plan wasn’t gonna go down for real, and that larry was never gonna go to mexico, he asked, just because he liked the way larry talked about things: “you gonna stay in mexico forever?”

“nah, a few months maybe. lay low for a while, then go back to wisconsin at some point”

“right... shit, i shoulda thought it through as much as you did, you gotta whole plan”

larry squeezed his arms. “trial and error. learnt from all the times i didn’t have a plan”

freddy nodded, eyes still on the boat. it didn’t look like it had moved an inch the whole time he had been watching it. more silence stretched on, or as silent as it could be when the wind was whipping around them. he opened his mouth to suggest that they go home, but he felt larry rest his forehead on his shoulder and he shut it, turning his head slightly.

“don’t make me ask” larry said quietly.

“what?” freddy gulped.

“i already asked you to live with me for a week, i don’t wanna ask you this... i don’t wanna be the one that’s... pushing this”

freddy’s heart was thumping, and his head was ticking as he tried to form a response. “what do you... what do you want me to do?”

“just tell me not to ask. tell me you’ve got a ticket and you’re taking the first flight to colorado”

*jesus christ*

“that-“ he started. “but i don’t”

larry didn’t say anything, just turned his head so he was facing freddy’s neck. he could feel his eyelashes against his skin.

“if you’re gonna say what i think you are, then i want you to ask me” he croaked.

larry raised his head, and freddy couldn’t help but turn his face to look at him. larry smiled.

“i can’t ask if you’re lookin’ at me”

freddy blinked and turned back, the ship’s lights becoming blurred from the tears in his eyes.

“you wanna come to mexico with me?” larry whispered behind him.

“yeah”

//

on thursday it was the last meeting before the job. larry spoke to eddie on the phone and offered to drive freddy himself so eddie wouldn’t turn up at freddy’s place and find it empty. they didn’t speak in the car, but larry put his hand over freddy’s thigh the whole time. this was probably to get him to stop bouncing his leg more than anything affectionate.

inside the warehouse freddy was concentrating more on keeping his leg still more than anything joe was saying. he hooked his foot behind the chair leg and pulled some threads out the hole in his jeans instead.

once they were back at the apartment, freddy cornered larry against the back of his couch with a kiss that winded the both of them. the kind of ugly kiss he was giving girls at parties he wasn’t invited to when he was 15 and half drunk and didn’t know any better.

he hummed and moaned into larry’s mouth while he reached with shaking hands for his belt.

“hey. no, slow down a second” larry whispered, grabbing both of his wrists. freddy tried to pull out of his grip and keep kissing him but larry put a few inches between them and gripped his wrists harder. “i don’t think that’s gonna happen for me tonight, okay? lemme take care of you instead”

freddy blinked for a few seconds then allowed himself to be steered to the bedroom and undressed, lifting his arms when instructed. he squeezed his eyes closed and tried to steady his breathing as he lay out flat on his back. the light was off and the curtains were drawn and he could barely see a thing, just the dark shape of larry toeing off his shoes and climbing up the foot of the bed.

larry’s fingers were rubbing small, firm circles over all the right places and he was whispering all the right things, and freddy was grateful he hadn’t given up yet, considering his dick wasn’t responding and his face had only gotten more pale. 

*for christ’s sake, think of something sexy*

freddy felt tears sting his eyes when he guided larry’s mouth away from his crotch and turned onto his side to curl up into a ball.

“it’s okay, it’s a tough night, we’ve got next time” larry said gently, awkwardly touching his shoulder.

freddy hated himself so much in that moment for letting larry think that there would be a ‘next time’ and a lump rose in his throat. he swallowed it and croaked “can you pass me my clothes?”

he got dressed again, all while under larry’s sympathetic, unbearable gaze. he was acting like a fucking whiny teenager because neither of them could get it up, which was hardly surprising, but _fuck_ , tomorrow night larry would be in police custody and freddy would be taken to the station and asked to explain why he disappeared the week running up to the heist. he’d probably never get a good nights sleep in his life after this, so it’d be nice if he could spend this one with a good reason to stay awake.

it was almost exactly like his first attempt with another guy, where, at the age of 22 he failed to get hard for the first time in his life because he had never been more terrified, even of the very non-threatening, kind of nerdy looking guy that had approached him in that very dirty bookstore. freddy remembered him being nice about it, though obviously disappointed. he didn’t pluck up the courage to try again for another few months. he had almost convinced himself he didn’t even like guys.

“let me” larry said hushed, coming over and doing his jeans up for him when freddy’s hands had gone stiff and shaking like he was out in the tundra. “you wanna get something to eat?”

“no thanks”. he didn’t want any food in his system when his stomach felt like this.

“alright” and then, “i know you won’t believe me, but i’m fuckin’ terrified too”

freddy gave a wet laugh, not looking up from the floor. “you’re right, i don’t believe you”

larry chuckled and scratched his jaw, or at least that’s what it sounded like, the rough rasp of his nails on stubble filling the silence. “you don’t get less scared, you just get better at dealing with it”

“how should i deal with it then?”

“we gotta tire you out... well, find another way to tire you out, ‘cause that didn’t work”

freddy couldn’t help but look up, smiling reluctantly and raising his eyebrows. “shut up... what we gon’ do, run a marathon at” and he checked the glowing clock, “8 at night?”

“let’s start with a walk first”

they drove down to the beach in complete silence. that same r&b song from weeks ago was playing but freddy shut off the radio as soon as he recognised what it was.

for nearly three hours they walked up and down the beach, freddy itching for a cigarette the whole time but resisting. maybe he’d quit if he didn’t die tomorrow. he’d leave the force, move to colorado and get a job as mall security or something so his mom didn’t have to stay working at that restaurant. he probably wouldn’t, but it was a nice idea.

he wondered what larry would do if he told him right now. he didn’t remember seeing him bring a gun, but he knew there was one in the glove box. maybe he’d take him out a few feet and hold his head under the water.

it was only until they had both slowed to a snail’s pace and could barely lift their feet that larry decided they were tired enough and drove them back.

when they got into bed, cold legs knocking together, freddy wondered what larry would do if he told him now. smother him with a pillow maybe? or just strangle him with his hands. he was already lying in the crook of his elbow, maybe he would break his neck just like that.

right on cue to give him a fucking heart attack, larry repositioned his arm. he must have noticed freddy jump because he pulled back a few inches to look at his face, but it was too dark.

“you’ll feel better tomorrow morning”

freddy hummed, unconvinced.

“i mean it, the night before you’re always scared to death, but the morning of a job you feel invincible... when you wake up, and you realise you’re not already in jail, and you haven’t already been shot, you see how much you were worrying and you feel amazing... turns out you’re fearing the whole day instead of the few minutes the job takes, so when you wake up and you feel safe... you’re okay”

“right”. freddy very much doubted that he’d feel amazing, but he wanted to hear more. “was that what your first time was like?”

“with a man or with a woman?”

freddy did an ugly snort of laughter and elbowed larry in the ribs. “not what i fuckin’ meant, mother-fuckin’...” and trailed off as larry laughed.

“i know, i’m sorry... my first gig? i dunno... it was a house... the first of many that we did... and yeah, i felt like that. there weren’t anything fancy there, we were just lookin’ for cash and jewellery. went in the middle of the morning when he was at work and she had taken the kids to school. in and out in 10 minutes with a couple hundred dollars worth”

“wow”

“hm. so that’s why you hide your shit. don’t leave it on the fuckin’ dresser. put it behind bath panels or in the toilet cistern... somewhere gross no one wants to check if they only have a few minutes”

“shit, i’ve been lookin’ all over for your pearls and they’ve been in the fuckin’ toilet the whole time?” freddy joked.

“no way, you think i’d give my best hiding spot away to a fuckin’ rookie? you’re gonna havta look harder”

“fuck”

larry chuckled. “but hey, you’re not a rookie at all, didn’t you hold up a poker game with a shotgun? you’ve got nothin’ to be worried about”

freddy gulped. *oh yeah, this is what i do*

“guess so... still... poker games don’t have alarms or too many civilians in the way”

“mm... why a shotgun, can i ask?”

*’cause holdaway came up with that story and he’s a fuckin’ idiot*

“‘cause i’m a fuckin’ idiot”

larry laughed. “uh huh... what i wouldn’t pay to see you pumpin’ a shotgun at a fuckin’ poker table. a beautiful sight”

“shut up” freddy said, because he wasn’t sure if larry was serious or not.

//

on friday he woke up and felt... well, all he could feel was two hard dicks poking against his left thigh. larry turned off the alarm and rolled back over, and within about 10 minutes they were fucking, freddy on his back with one of his knees around his ear, larry holding him by the ankle while he lay into him. a bead of sweat from the back of his knee ran down his thigh to pool where larry was sliding in and out of him. 

*i feel like a fuckin’ idiot for crying about the “next time” thing*

the hand on his ankle hurt, but freddy said nothing because he kinda liked the idea that there would be a tiny piece of evidence after this. if they didn’t have larry’s fingerprints on the system they could just check freddy’s skin because they were sure to be bruised into him. 

larry dug his fingernails in at a particularly rough thrust and freddy came hard without even touching himself. larry smiled a self-satisfied grin, then followed quickly after and let go of his ankle. no bruises but he could see the crescent moons where larry’s nails had been. they’d find freddy’s DNA under them if they checked. he almost wished he had asked him not to wear a condom.

in the shower, freddy wondered what larry would do if he told him now. probably grab his head and smash it against the tiles, or the edge of the tub. he did feel larry’s hands in his hair, but it was to drag him into a kiss instead. he kissed back, getting water in his mouth when he slipped his tongue in. he felt larry poking him in the thigh again so he knelt down and sucked him off, leaving his own nail marks on larry’s hips. 

“how are your knees?” larry asked after freddy spat down the drain and shakily stood up.

“hurt”

“you didn’t have to, i’m sorry”

“just pay me back then”

he was still slicked up and open from earlier, so larry had no trouble curling two fingers into him and his other hand around his dick.

*the ‘two guns dimmick’ thing should have been a clue he was ambidextrous, but this just confirms it*

afterwards he sat on the closed toilet seat wrapped in a towel while larry shaved and combed back his hair. 

“come ‘ere, i’ll do you. can’t have your hair in your eyes today”

freddy sat on the counter next to the sink, holding his breath and closing his eyes while larry shaved him. just from the sound of it, the straight razor was doing a much better job than his two strip shaver. he didn’t have to wonder what larry would do if he told him now. his head was tilted up, the cold metal was right on his jugular vein, larry’s finger very gently keeping his chin up and his breath warm on the side of his face. larry wiped his face clean and patted it dry afterwards.

“thanks”

“feel it. feels different doesn’t it?”

freddy stroked his cheek with the back of his fingers. “smooth. ‘t’s like bein’ 12 again”

larry smiled and nodded for him to stand up and face the mirror for his hair. freddy closed his eyes again for this, part because the teeth of the comb going over his scalp felt good, part because he didn’t want to look at his reflection.

“see? you look nice” larry said when he was done. 

freddy honestly didn’t care. he didn’t give his own reflection more than a glance, just looked straight at larry’s.

“you look nice”

“gotta make sure the mugshot’s pretty”

freddy scoffed and looked at the floor, then shuffled out to get changed into his suit. when he picked his ring up from the nightstand he saw the time. he had assumed they would be running late from the time they had wasted, but they were right on schedule. he wondered if larry had set the alarm with that in mind, counting on the fact that they would fuck. maybe that’s what he felt by ‘feeling amazing’ in the morning. freddy couldn’t help but smirk to himself at the thought.

from the kiss larry gave him at the door, freddy briefly thought they might go for another round against the wall or the back of the couch or something. instead larry broke them apart and opened the door, smacking him on the ass as freddy went through. he certainly hadn’t expected to be smiling when he left that morning.

//

freddy was totally in his comfort zone at breakfast, talking about big dicks and shitty waitresses. he was relaxing, the calm before the storm. maybe he was just zoning out from the reality of the situation, because larry’s arm was on the back of his chair. 

//

even after blonde had gone crazy and larry had shot those cops, freddy still remained relatively calm, surprising himself with how level headed he was being. he was fine, he was being guided by a hand on his shoulder and he was still standing upright, so he was fine.

it was just his luck that the car belonged to a soccer mom with good aim. he almost wanted to laugh, because, yeah, great, of course, he’s gonna be the first under cover cop to be killed on a job by a civilian instead of the career criminals he’d been working with. if the LAPD did yearbooks, that’s what he would have been voted most likely to do.

when larry offered him a blow job, he wanted to joke that he probably didn’t have enough blood left to get hard, but after he laughed, a spike of pain shot through him and he had to swallow his words. he asked him to hold him instead, because that was the next best thing and he could feel himself about to slide into unconsciousness and he didn’t want to be alone.

//

he almost felt bad for forgetting who marvin nash was, but he had never heard that name in his life, and he had just been shot in the stomach, so excuse him for not being so polite. he had never liked blonde, so shooting him was no sweat off his back. he was the type of guy that was intimidating and enjoyed it, like so many cops and boyfriends of his mom and school bullies that freddy had been around. he should have wanted the police to storm in and save them, but honestly he just wanted larry to get back from wherever he had fucked off to.

// 

hearing larry defend him hurt more than the bullet in his belly, and knowing he was gonna get hurt for trusting him made freddy want to blurt it out right there to joe.

getting shot again barely registered, there was barely anything left of him to shoot. it stunned him though, and for a few seconds he was out of it completely. he snapped back when he heard larry clawing across the floor and up the ramp to him, and he used all the strength he could to reach out and wrap his arms around the back of him. 

he could hear shouting and helicopters, and the familiar wail of sirens. larry must have done too because he said “sorry kid, looks like we’re gonna do a little time” as he rubbed freddy’s temple.

there’s no way he couldn’t tell him now. no way he could let larry think for a second that they would both get locked up. it wasn’t fair.

“i’m a cop” he spat, every word of it physically hurting him.

nothing. larry said nothing, and didn’t move at all. the hand was still rubbing his temple.

“larry, i’m so sorry... i’m a cop”

then larry made a noise like he was in just as much pain, like a wounded animal. the hand tightened on freddy’s head but didn’t stop. freddy didn’t stop clinging for him, though his arms hurt.

it was funny really. it was like the times larry had got behind and asked him a question. except this time, regardless of what the question may have been, he wasn’t getting an answer he liked.

it was almost a relief when he saw larry lift his gun out the very corner of his eye. all his fantasies about this moment were a lot more painful. a shot to the head would be fucking morphine right now.

that didn’t stop him spitting out some more “i’m sorry”s, as if larry would believe them.the cold butt of the gun was pressed against the corner of his mouth. christ, larry’s hands better be steady because if it doesn’t go through his brain, his face is gonna get blown in half and his teeth will turn to dust. 

freddy didn’t look up when the police barged in. he didn’t bother to check if it was anyone he knew. it wouldn’t make a difference, he was about to be a puddle. 

he was never gonna have to come up with a story for where he disappeared to for the week. that was the silver lining, the last bit of good luck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i ran out of steam to write anything interesting


End file.
